Legacy
by gotmilk
Summary: An ancient Earth philosopher once wrote: “There is no great genius without some touch of madness.” Unfortunately for Seamus Harper and the crew of the Andromeda Ascendant... he was right.
1. Nothing gold can stay

**Title**: Legacy

**Rating**: PG-13

**Status**: In progress.

**Season**: Sometime after "For Whom the Bells Toll" (Season Three).

**Summary**: An ancient Earth philosopher once wrote: "There is no great genius without some touch of madness." Unfortunately for the crew of the Andromeda, he was right.

**Disclaimer**: Muhahahahah! I am the Stargate Plot Thief, roaming though lost episode transcripts, leaping over stacks of scripts in a single bound, and praying nightly that the creators, producers, directors, actors, stagehands, tech advisors, special effects wizards, and KRAFT services people don't sue her butt for "commandeering" this particular storyline. Obviously I didn't create Andromeda or Stargate (which I based this story off of). If I did I'd own Spock and Teal'c, which… would be really cool come to think about it.

**Author's notes:** Getting to write this story was the reason I did another littler one entitled "Holiday" (which has some vital background info). However, it's not going to be a prerequisite for this fic and I'll do my best to keep "new viewers" in-the-know. If you want to read it though, please, feel free. No really. I mean it. _You want to read the fanfiction. _::waves hand mysteriously::

And so the madness begins… literally.

**Legacy**

* * *

the footsteps were coming. they were coming. coming to hurt him. take him over. use him. possess him. coming to deride. coming to torment.

the footsteps were coming.

footsteps…

footsteps…

they're here!

he whimpered and tried to escape. he could sense them, staring down at him with hollow, empty eyes. they wanted his body for their own. but it was his… they couldn't have it. it was his to own… possess. not theirs.

he shouted at them to go away but they never listened. never listened when he pleaded, and begged, and cried, and yelled… never listened when he asked why they'd chosen him. why they wouldn't leave him alone.

he wanted to die.

the footsteps…

they were coming again.

he felt them near. their cold eyes and lifeless face looking at him and laughing. no one else understood. no one else could hear or see them. no one else believed him.

they were coming.

footsteps…

footsteps…

blackness.

**

* * *

**

Chapter 1

"Nature's first green is gold,  
Her hardest hue to hold.  
Her early leaf's a flower,  
But only so an hour.  
Then leaf subsides to leaf,  
So Eden sank to grief,  
So dawn goes down to day.  
Nothing gold can stay."

- Robert Frost

* * *

In a moment of poetic muse, Seamus Harper found himself staring at the white Dorran mountains looming in the distance. There was nothing special about them really. Beautiful, old, majestic… _painful_!

Harper batted at a snowflake that had somehow managed to lodge itself in his eye. It melted on contact but he continued to rub it just to make sure it was gone. So much for sentimental lyrics about the mountain. He sighed and looked back towards his group. A persistent wind had been blowing snow flurries into his face since they'd arrived and he was more than ready for that transport to arrive.

As he pivoted and walked back towards the others he felt the frozen ground crunch pathetically under his heavy work boots. It had been a long time since he had felt this cold. The _Andromeda_ was sometimes a little too chilly for his standards but that was a mechanical cool. It wasn't natural. Out here, however, the coldness was real. He couldn't change it with the quick press of a button like he could on the ship.

Drawing his well worn leather jacket tighter, the engineer sighed halfheartedly. As he exhaled he watched his warm breath hit the air and freeze instantly into a white smoke. The mist floated above his head and dissipated. He did it again and smiled, lost amongst a good memory.

"Know what I miss, Beka?" he idly asked.

Pulling up her coat's hood to shield herself from stray flakes, Beka turned towards her vertically challenged friend. "What's that?"

"Tobacco." Seamus exhaled again and watched the air freeze before him. "I could go for a cigarette right about now."

Beka rolled her eyes. "Rev and I made you quit that little habit five years ago."

"Ah but… but it's nicotine. Sweet, sweet nicotine." Harper smiled. "I miss that."

"Miss being unable to climb up into the AP valve without wheezing?"

"No," Seamus reluctantly admitted.

"Then stop talking about it because you aren't starting again." Beka smacked her friend's arm lightly. "Besides, the smell stayed in Rev's fur for weeks. We had to get a special spray for him and everything."

Harper muttered to himself as he watched the blonde captain walk away. Realizing she wasn't going to pay any more attention to him, Harper yanked at his jacket again. It was still frickin' cold.

Growing up in Boston, Seamus had felt his share of cold winters. Living on the streets guaranteed nightly bouts of frostbite for the unlucky, but this place was ridiculous. From what the locals had told him the current weather outside was mild. When he'd asked Rommie the temperature she'd told him it was slightly above freezing. Why the Nietzscheans had wanted this planet was beyond him. A year-round cold chunk of world didn't seem like their usual Vedran cup of tea. There had to have been something at one time or another to make it of any interest to them.

A mechanical hum caught Harper's ear and he turned back towards the mountains. The transport ship they'd been waiting for had finally arrived. It sailed through a gap in the large peaks and came to a rest about a hundred feet from the group. A gaunt, youngish looking man exited a moment later. The stranger was wrapped in the skins of some long dead creature and walked through the ice and snow with a long staff. Harper thought the man looked rather at home in this weather.

"Welcome," the newcomer replied, halting before Captain Hunt. "I am H'toh."

Dylan smiled and stepped forward, warmly greeting the man with a handshake. "I'm Captain Dylan Hunt." He gestured towards his friends. "This is my first officer Beka Valentine, the _Andromeda_'s engineer Seamus Harper, and the _Andromeda_'s avatar Rommie. We're all happy to be here."

"Happy that my brain cells are being cryogenically frozen?" Harper murmured out of the newcomer's earshot. Beka sharply elbowed him in the chest.

"I thank you all for coming," H'toh continued. "This way please."

The crew followed the councilman to the waiting transport. Once the five were aboard and comfortably seated, the vehicle rose and sped towards the mountains once more. Glancing only briefly out the window at the passing landscape, Harper finally turned back towards H'toh and settled in for the ride.

"So tell me about this place again," Harper said, fiddling with a control knob on the seat.

H'toh pulled out a flexi and handed it to the smaller man. "We are traveling to an abandoned High Guard facility designated Beta Hyperion. Three centuries past, when the Nietzschean's defeated the Commonwealth, the Lynx Pride overtook the facility and the surrounding city. However, twenty years ago key members of the Pride unexpectedly disappeared and the Nietzschean's slaves rioted, destroying their captors. Fortunately for my people, the other prides have left us in peace."

As the man talked, Harper switched on the flexi to reveal building blueprints. "What is this?" he asked.

"That is the reason we needed Captain Hunt," H'toh answered. "There are several chambers inside Beta Hyperion that the council has been unsuccessful thus far in opening. We believe there to be advanced High Guard/Nietzschean hybrid weaponry within the heavily shielded rooms. Our best technicians have been unable to open the doors and we fear damaging what may lay inside with explosives."

"What you need are High Guard codes," Dylan added. "Codes that I have."

H'toh nodded. "When we learned of your reawakening Captain Hunt we were most eager to contact you. It has taken time, but we are thankful you are finally here."

"I've heard very little of Beta Hyperion, but _Andromeda_'s archives said it was a research facility," Hunt said.

"Yes," H'toh responded. "The Commonwealth used it for secret technology study. After the Nietzschean's captured the building they spent years working on completing the unfinished projects."

"Hybrid weapons?" Harper asked, handing the datapad back. "Are you sure?"

"Our records point to that theory and we believe the Nietzscheans kept their most valued technology inside. We look forward to finding out with your help, Captain Hunt."

Dylan's smile was guarded. "I'm sure our trip was worthwhile, councilman."

* * *

Following H'toh and two of his aides into the facility, Harper was instantly aware of the new temperature. He'd fully expected the building to be just as cold as the outside atmosphere. Tucked deep in a snowy valley, the structure was still in decent condition, even after being out of commission for over twenty years. Since exiting the transport, Harper couldn't make out any life signs, humanoid or animal, within the surrounding hills. There wasn't even room between the facility and the rocks to land the _Maru_ safely in. 

Next to him Beka pulled down her hood, feeling the drastic temperature change as well.

"It's warm in here," she noted.

"We keep the facility heated to preserve the equipment from the elements," H'toh said. "We have staff here year-round."

Harper slipped out of his coat and threw it over his arm. "What are we waiting for? Let's see some gadgets."

"The main lab is this way." H'toh motioned towards the hallway leading away from the entrance. "Follow me."

Harper stuck close to the councilman as the man navigated the tight corridors. H'toh entered a sequence of codes into a wall control and the doors, similar to those on the Command Deck of the _Andromeda Ascendant_. The thick metal parted and H'toh motioned his four guests inside. Once Harper got a look at the place he instantly realized it was identical to the research labs aboard the ship.

"The chamber is this way."

H'toh lead them through an additional set of corridors to another closed door. This time he left the controls alone.

Noting that this was the room in question, Dylan stepped forward to stare at the panel.

"We believe the Limvris acquired the code and voice command for the room from a captured High Guard commander," H'toh explained as Hunt examined the door control. "However, they never shared the codes with anyone but their inner group."

"Limvris?" Harper asked.

"Before the revolt, our planet was ruled by nine members of the pride who called themselves the Limvris. The word is ancient Dorran. It means _conquerors_," the councilman replied. "The pride's leader was Pyruss. His mate Marguerite, their four eldest children, two councilors, and Pyruss' brother Jonas made up the rest of the Limvris."

Beka glanced up. "So they were the rulers who went AWOL. What happened to them?"

"We are unsure. My people only know that they disappeared unexpectedly one day. The rest of the Nietzscheans were in panic. The slaves, however, took advantage of the confusion and formed an uprising."

Before H'toh could continue, Dylan approached the group. "I believe my security clearance will work. From the time period dated on the datapad, this facility was operating under the High Guard for only a brief time after I was trapped."

"What are we waiting for then?" Harper asked, stepping up behind the larger man. "Lets get his baby open."

"Harper," Beka questioned, "why are you so excited about this? It's just a room."

Seamus shrugged. "I like surprises." He paused a moment and then added, "Especially ones that involve me getting new toys."

Beka laughed. "Child."

"Don't worry, I'm sure we won't find much anyway," Harper replied.

Beka could hear the eagerness dripping from his words. If he kept talking she'd have to get him a bucket. She looked up to find Dylan giving them a disapproving look and she waved a hand towards the door. "Sorry, talking shall cease. It's all yours."

"Thank you," Dylan replied, turning from the chatter to advance on the door.

For a moment Hunt paused to recollect the proper code. When he finally entered a sequence of numbers and his voice recognition code, the group waited in silent anticipation of what lay beyond the entrance. As soon as Dylan stopped speaking though, the seal on the door released with a hiss and the thick metal parted.

The first to react was Beka. "That," Valentine said slowly, "is not a good smell."

Cautiously the group entered the room and Harper felt his nose wrinkle. It smelled like something had died in--

Seamus felt his foot hit something solid and he pin-wheeled forward, unable to keep his balance. His palms slammed onto the hard flooring to catch himself and he felt his spine jar painfully from the impact.

"Oww," Harper muttered. "What the--"

He looked down and found himself face to face with a Nietzschean. A very dead Nietzschean.

"Geeesh!" the engineer screamed, scrambling away from the corpse and smacking into the front of Dylan's legs.

Next to Hunt, Beka stepped forward, he eyes searching the dark room. "Eww. I think there's one more over there." She turned to her left and extended a finger. "And then another just to your left Dylan."

"I see two more," H'toh added, disgusted as well by the room's smell.

"Dylan," Rommie said, "I count four other bodies in the room. Nine total. All appear to be Nietzschean."

Picking himself up, Harper was wary to approach any of the remains. H'toh was providing light with a crude electric lantern but it was all a bit too creepy for him. The cadavers were… preserved to say the least. All nine looked partially mummified with their taut, leathery skin and hollow eyes. Some still had strands of hair left on their heads. A part of Harper's brain wondered why they didn't look more decayed but he guessed it might have had something to do with the temperate. He hadn't noticed it before, but the room was cold enough to see his breath.

"I think it's safe to assume we've found the Limvris," Rommie commented.

"Yes, their robes bear the crest of the royal family," the councilman agreed. "But how did they come to be here?"

"How would I know?" Harper muttered. "Ah man… so much for our armory."

Dylan stepped around his engineer. "If I had to guess, I would venture to say this was a meeting room of some kind."

Harper followed behind Dylan, careful to stay far from the bodies. He approached the room's large table and pulled a flashlight from his tool belt. Noticing something half hidden under it he bent down. A datapad.

"Look," Harper said as he reached for the thin piece of technology.

"What is it?" Beka asked.

"It's a datapad." Seamus pressed the power control and watched strange words rapidly cover the data screen. He frowned. "It looks like a battle plan drawn by Picasso." He tilted the pad to the left and his head to right to try to make sense of it.

"What does it say?"

Harper squinted at the device in his hand. "Not sure. Most of the writing looks like gibberish. Let me just turn the page." He pressed the key but nothing happened.

Again he tried to move the electronic page but it refused to cooperate. It must have been broken. Harper was just about to tell Dylan his trouble when he felt a cold chill wash over him. He couldn't help but jump and turn, searching for… something.

Beka walked towards him carefully, hand curling around the forcelance on her belt. "What's wrong?"

The earthling turned in a quick circle, eyes wide. "I- I felt something brush by me."

Everyone in the room raised their lights to search for the unseen intruder.

"I've scanned the area and there's no one else here," Rommie finally said, looking across at her engineer.

Harper rubbed his head, unconsciously tousling his blonde hair. "I know I felt something."

"Come on Dylan," Beka said after a moment, "let's get out of here. It's getting kind of spooky. Maybe send in some 'bots to clean up the mess."

"She's right," Rommie added, "there could very well be something contagious in here. We still don't know how they died."

"All right," the captain agreed. He turned away from Harper to look at H'toh. "Councilman, I need to contact my ship. We can get a contamination team down here to search the room."

H'toh agreed with a nod, staring once more in disgust at the decomposed bodies. "They are just as foul in death as they were in life." He walked out.

As the rest of the group hurried out of the dark chamber Harper lingered. He kept watching the corpse nearest to him, unable to explain why he felt like he was being watched. That was ridiculous of course. They were dead, and deceased things were… dead.

Beka noticed her friend's hesitation and paused, staring at the back of his head. "Harper?" she finally called. "You coming?"

"Yeah, Boss," Harper murmured. He glanced once more at the dead Nietzschean then followed Beka from the room.

He could have sworn, for an instant, it had smiled at him.


	2. Where does the violet tint end

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 2**

"Where does the violet tint end and the orange tint begin?  
Distinctly we see the difference of the colors,  
but where exactly does the first one blending enter into the other.  
So with sanity and insanity."

-Herman Melville

* * *

The trip back to the _Andromeda _had been uneventful, although even hours after entering the chamber Harper could still feel the sensation of something brushing past him. Once everyone had boarded the ship they had all been subjected to various tests, each looking for possible contaminates. When Trance had scanned, poked, and prodded everyone enough to deem them clear, they were free to leave Med Deck and allowed back to their duties.

Harper had thought about returning to his workshop, but every time he took a step forward he envisioned himself walking around the chamber on Dorran. Instead of work, he decided on a shower. A nice, relaxing cascade of hot water to soothe away his troubles. An hour later, it seemed to do the trick.

Feeling like himself once again, Harper stepped from his shower and tied a towel around his waist. He plucked another one from the shelf and ran it a few times over his hair. The human threw the used towel over his shoulder and walked to the mirror. Wiping steam from the reflective surface, the engineer took in his appearance. Same blue eyes; same hair, wet and plastered to his skull; same face. He looked like he did everyday… but something felt different.

"harper."

Harper spun around looking for an interloper but found himself alone in his bathroom.

"_Andromeda_?" he called. He waited, but then remembered he'd turned the ship's privacy mode on before getting into the shower.

"harper."

He turned again towards the door. Was someone in his room?

"Out in a minute!" he yelled. He scrambled over to where he'd piled his clean clothing and began slipping them on.

Once fully dressed Harper opened the door and stepped out into his quarters looking for company. The room was empty. Frowning Harper grabbed his tool belt from the bed and hit the door controls for the room. He walked out and turned to his left, nearly smacking into Beka.

"Hey, Harper," the _Maru's _captain greeted, unperturbed by their near collision. "In a hurry?"

Harper looked around the empty corridor and back at his friend. "Were you just calling me?"

"Nope."

"You weren't calling my name a minute ago?" he asked, forehead wrinkling in thought.

Beka shrugged casually. "No, wasn't me. I just came to get you. _Andromeda _said you were in privacy mode."

"Err, yeah," Harper answered. He wrapped his belt around his waist and clipped it shut. "I just wanted to be alone. Sometimes it's nice not feeling like Big Brother's watching you. Well, I guess in this case it's Big Sister." He laughed weakly at his own joke.

His friend raised an eyebrow. "Riiiiight." She shook her head. "Look, Dylan's having a debriefing on the Limvris. I thought you'd want to come."

"Uh, sure," Harper answered. He turned to go down the opposite corridor but a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him to a stop.

"It's this way, Harper," Beka said, releasing the red material in her hand. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Harper blinked. "Fine, boss. Really."

Beka nodded and watched him slip past her. Not for a nanosecond did she believe he was telling her the truth.

* * *

"How did they die?" 

Trance looked over at Rommie a moment then back at Dylan. "We're not precisely sure, but we have a theory."

Hunt leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Would you care to elaborate?"

Trance nodded. "To start with, there are no external marks of any kind on any of the Nietzscheans. No blast wounds or abrasions. Nothing. Rommie ran some scans on the remains but we didn't find anything unusual."

"What about bio-warfare?" Beka asked. "Poison, disease, that kind of thing?"

"We could do more extensive tests," Rommie chimed in, "but we feel they would be unnecessary. Further investigation into the chamber showed that the control panel was destroyed from within. If they were trapped inside with no way to communicate and no food or water, it more than likely that they died of starvation."

"Wait a minute now." The _Maru's _captain leaned forward as well, matching Dylan's pose. "If the door was disabled from the inside, how did the perp, or perps, get out?"

"One of the royal family could have betrayed the others, inadvertently imprisoning themselves along with them," Tyr theorized. "It wouldn't be an act atypical for the Lynx. They are a greedy, self-serving pride. Each would not hesitate to consider killing his or her own siblings if a great enough profit was involved."

"Talk about a dysfunctional family," Harper muttered softly.

Moving on to the next topic Dylan turned towards the ship's avatar. "Has _Andromeda _been able to get anything from the datapad?"

The ship's robotic form shook her head. "I am still running searches on the ciphers but there have been no matches as of yet. Half do appear to be in ancient Dorran script. H'toh is sending his best linguistic scholars to help with the translation. We have also been unsuccessful in changing from the first page of the plan. I was hoping Harper would be able to work on it."

"Keep trying," Dylan commanded gently. "We'll stay to help H'toh and his people with this mystery. If we haven't made any progress in two days, however, I will reconsider our next course of action. Dismissed."

Rommie nodded and stood, handing the pad to Harper who sat directly on her right. "Will you see if you can do anything with it?"

"No prob," Harper replied, taking the offered object. He watched as the others shuffled from the room and tapped the device on his thigh a few times. How hard could fixing one little datapad be anyway?

Harper stared at the plans as he exited the meeting room but paused to look down the corridor. There were two crewmen working on a control panel down about twenty feet from him. One was bending over searching for a tool while the other fiddled with the wiring on the wall. Harper looked down at the pad in his hand and took another step forward… and then stopped.

He turned towards the men again and this time felt his breath catch. The one on the floor was staring at him, but gone was the healthy skin and dark hair of the once youthful crew member. Now one of the dead Nietzscheans stared back at him, eyes black and empty. Harper would have stayed locked in his frozen position if someone hadn't called his name.

"Harper?"

Harper's head snapped around. Tyr.

"Tyr!" the human exclaimed.

Tyr Anassai narrowed his eyes, feeling uncharacteristically concerned. "You were vacantly staring. Are you all right?"

"No I saw--" Harper said, turning back towards the corridor. The dead Nietzschean was gone, replaced by the crewmen again. "I saw… uh… them. They're uh… working… erm… on the ship. Good guys those… guys."

The living Nietzschean shook his head. "Little man, you get stranger by the minute." Tyr stepped around Harper and walked away.

Seamus followed the disappearing form a few seconds before this eyes drifted back to the workers. Still crewmen. Normal, very much alive crewman.

Harper put a palm to his forehead and pushed gently. He'd had a headache when he'd come back on board the ship but now it was back and getting worse by the moment. What he'd seen was just his eyes playing tricks on him. There were no Nietzscheans onboard, save for their resident Kodiak.

Harper put his hand down and stuffed the pad into an empty pocket. First he would go to his quarters and take a quick nap. Once he was feeling okay again he would work on the pad, and with any luck, figure out why it wasn't functioning.

He just needed a little sleep. Yeah, that's what it had to be. Just extreme exhaustion. Once he was fully awake and aware, his fictional Nietzschean friends wouldn't return and he'd forget he'd ever seen them.

He repeated this to himself over and over as he walked back to his quarters. By the time he plopped down in his bed five minutes later, he almost believed it.

* * *

Beka stepped through the airlock of the _Maru _and instinctively inhaled. There it was. The distinct smell of home. 

The captain knew others would laugh if they heard her talking like that. For most people a ship was a transport. A thing used to get them from one city to another or a distant planet. They didn't think of a ship as home. Even the crewmembers aboard the _Andromeda_ couldn't fully understand. The halls of the _Andromeda_ were clean, sterile, nearly medical.

Thanks to perfect Highguard venting there were no odors, only pure filtered oxygen. There weren't piles of clothing laying about or leaking pipes in desperate need of tightening. She doubted anyone aboard _Andromeda_ had ever smelt the aroma of burning casserole waft though the corridors. They had never had a clumsy purple newcomer spill Tollan perfume onboard, causing a stench that lasted two weeks. There hadn't ever been fresh coffee to wake them up in the morning or the smell of an engineer who would get to working so hard he'd forget to regularly shower.

She smiled. No one, save for possibly Bobby, deserved to be subjected to that last memory.

Beka passed through the _Maru's_ kitchen and into Trance's personal hideaway on the ship. They all had their quarters back on the _Andromeda_ but there was still something nice about going back to their own beds. Like she had predicted, Trance stood over her plants, clippers in hand. Valentine almost felt sorry for the flora.

"Hey," Beka greeted. "Whatcha up to?"

The golden alien looked up and smiled. "Just trimming. And thinking. I usually go to the Obs Deck to be alone, but it was too crowded today."

"The _Maru's_ always open," Beka replied offhandedly. She leaned over the table and rested her elbows on the smooth surface. "I was kind of hoping you were here actually. I wanted to talk. In private."

"Private?"

Beka made a face. "It's nothing big, I just wanted your opinion on something."

"All right. On what?"

"Well, on Harper actually," Valentine answered. "He's been acting a little… flaky."

"Flaky?" Trance asked, her forehead wrinkling slightly.

Beka shrugged. "A little out of it. When I went to get him earlier he kept asking if I'd been calling him when I wasn't anywhere near his quarters. And he just looked a little spaced out during the debriefing."

"I didn't notice anything," Trance replied. "Well, nothing extremely out of the ordinary for him."

Beka shook her head. "I guess. I also have the feeling he might be getting sick. Three different times during the discussion he closed his eyes like he had a headache. A few minutes later he was acting fine again."

Trance put her sheers down. "Maybe he just had a headache. It's a common infirmity, Beka. Besides, his scans when he returned to the ship were fine. He was in good health."

"I know that," Beka said. "But I also know Harper, and something's wrong. I uh… well, I was wondering if you could sense anything."

"Our perfect future is always changing. What I see now for Harper doesn't mean something's wrong," Trance said.

"Trannnnce," Beka drawled. "You know something and you're not telling me."

The alien woman shook her head. "Right now, I can't explain what I'm seeing in Harper's future. I don't know if it is bad or good. We will just have to wait and see what develops."

Beka stood up and put her hands on her hips. "I don't like the sound of that. Just… do me a favor. If something does change, you tell me. Okay?"

Trance picked up her cutters again. "Of course, Beka."

Valentine threw Trance a quick "You-Had-Better-Tell-Me-Or-Else" look over her shoulder and left the alien alone with her plants.

Trance stared a moment at the tiny bush before her sheers. She had told Beka the truth. Harper's future was unreadable at this point, even for her. All she saw was a white world that was blurred with faint, rapid movement. What she felt she could not be described fully in human terms. Flashes of fear. Insecurity. Loneliness. Utter confusion. Trance brought one of the bush's thin branches between the blades of her tool. Only Time would tell her what she wanted to know. She only hoped Time was on her friend's side as well.

* * *

Harper sat at his work bench staring down at the pad in his left hand. In his right was a functioning one with a chopped translation for the other. Four words in the jumbled mess kept drawing his attention. 'To enter by infiltration.' What did that mean? Enter _what _by infiltration? 

He put down the translation and took a drink of his Sparky. To enter by infiltration. To enter by infilt--

"_harper_."

Seamus paused mid-sip and his eyes darted around his quarters. For a moment everything was silent and he released the breath he'd been holding. Obviously he was just im--

"join with us, harper."

Harper jumped up from his seat and barely managed to keep his chair legs on all fours. A soft whistling noise drew his attention towards his closet. It sounded like air was being released through a broken seal… but in his _closet_? Unless something had punched through hundreds of feet of the _Andromeda_'s hull to get to him this far in, that was ridiculous.

Knowing it was impossible, but also curious, Harper slowly walked to his closet. The hissing noise was getting louder, so whatever was making it was definitely coming from there. His hand rested over the control panel for only a moment before he slammed it down. The seal on the door released and it slid to the side, revealing the darkness of space. Harper gasped and stumbled backwards, fearful of being sucked out. He landed on the ground and stared into the closet from his back.

The faint twinkling of stars in the background told him he wasn't just staring into a dark wardrobe. He was looking into a hole and right out into the vastness of space. It took him nearly a minute to realize he wasn't being pulled out and he finally stood cautiously. He stepped warily towards the closet but refused to venture past the frame.

"_join us."_

Harper shook his head. "This isn't real. This can't be real."

He stretched his hand towards the opening and felt a chill run through him as it was fully engulfed by the blackness. Harper twisted his wrist around and flexed his palm. He didn't see the pale hand appear out of the darkness until it had wrapped its bony fingers around his collar and began to pull Harper closer.

"Help!" Seamus screamed, struggling against his assailant's grip. "Somebody help me!"

A head appeared out of the milky darkness, inches from his own, and he realized it was the dead Nietzschean he had stumbled over in the Limvris chamber.

The corpse grinned wickedly at Harper before pulling him forward into the darkness.


	3. Insanity in individuals is rare

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 3**

"Insanity in individuals is something rare-  
but in groups, parties, nations and epochs, it is the rule."

-Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

Consciousness had always seemed like an odd concept to Harper. How could something that was so easy to lose be so quick to regain? Now was the perfect example. He was trying desperately to open his eyes and shake the weary feeling of sleep away, but something was holding him back. There was this… net… between him and the land of the conscious. He pushed and pushed at it but it never yielded.

Amongst the fight for awareness something abruptly changed and Harper realized he was looking up at one of _Andromeda_'ssupport beams. The support beams on Med Deck to be more precise. He's been there often enough to familiarize himself with the specifics of the room-- most noticeably the ceiling since as he was often horizontal, laid out by some illness or work related accident.

The first time he really remembered studying the ceiling so intently was probably when Tyr had knocked him unconscious. He'd made the deadly mistake of accidentally walking up behind the preoccupied Kodiak a couple of years ago. Tyr had swung around faster than the human could duck and smacked the engineer so hard in the face with his new Gauss riffle that Harper had seen stars for nearly a week.

Seamus sensed his alertness level rise a bit more and felt up to turning his head to the left. He wasn't surprised to see Beka standing a few feet away. There hadn't been many times he couldn't remember her being near whenever he'd awoken after being ill. This time, however, she was too engrossed in playing with a bag of blue antibiotic treatment fluid to realize he was staring at her. Holding the thin plastic in the middle, Beka let the liquid slouch to the front and then let it fall to the other end.

Harper cleared his throat and Valentine swiftly turned, finally noticing he was awake and aware. She carefully set the bag down on a nearby equipment table and pulled a chair towards Harper's bed.

"Hello," she greeted simply.

Harper blinked up at her. "Hello."

"What happened?" Beka asked.

The engineer wrinkled his forehead slightly. What _had _happened? His eyes found hers again. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Beka looked unsure of his intent but answered truthfully. "Uh… no."

"Neither do I," Harper continued, "which means there has to be a logical explanation."

"For what exactly?"

"When we were in the Limvris chamber, I felt something brush by me. And I've heard voices," he explained. "And now I keep seeing the dead Nietzscheans from the massacre."

"Seeing them where?" Beka asked. He could tell she was trying to hide her skepticism.

He leaned closer. "Well, last night they were in my closet. There was a hole and all I could see out of it was open space."

Beka raised an eyebrow. "In… your closet?"

"Yes!" Harper exclaimed. "I don't think they're dead!"

"Who? The stiffs in the Dorran morgue?"

"The nine Nietzscheans, Beka. Andromeda translated a phrase on the datapad that meant _'to enter by infiltration.' _I think that's what they're doing!"

"Entering by infiltration?"

"Yes!"

Beka barely restrained a laugh. "Through your closet?"

"Stop patronizing me, would ya?" Harper snapped. "Look, H'toh said the Limvris were being hunted by other Nietzschean prides, right? Now what if they used some sort of technology to transform their bodies into… I don't know, energy… or something."

This time Beka full out snickered. "_Energy_?"

"Or something. Look, I don't know exactly how, Rommie and I can figure that part out later. The point is, they're here. They've entered by infiltration and now they want to use my body as… as some kind of host. A physical body to inhabit again."

"All nine of them?"

Harper pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration and made a mental note to ask Trance about his headache. "That sounds crazy, huh?"

"Um… yeah," Beka answered candidly. "You've got to admit there's some holes in your theory."

"It's a theory, not a proof."

Beka realized he was getting defensive with her and frowned. "Okay, then why are you the only one who can see them? Why didn't they come through Dylan's closet? It's way cleaner than yours."

"I don't know, Boss" the engineer replied. "The only other theory I can come up with is that I'm having some sort of nervous breakdown."

"Or something…"

"Or something," Harper echoed.

* * *

Beka sat watching her sleeping engineer and wondered how many times she'd done this before. How many times she'd sat by his side while recovering from… whatever. Taking a bad spill on the _Maru_, shocking himself silly after crossing the wrong wires, or even getting a bad case of food poisoning from that shoddy cantina on Dromous. Once she'd tried keeping tally of how many times she held vigil over him but always ended up losing count.

It wasn't just injuries though that brought her to his bedside. Years after joining up with the _Maru_ Harper frequently had nightmares about Earth and things she never wanted to even think about. Beka had never liked calling them nightmares though. No, these were night terrors plan and simple. In the beginning they had occurred regularly. As the year progressed and he became more comfortable with his surroundings, the episodes slowed farther.

Years later aboard the _Andromeda_, Rommie had once asked he why every night, without fail, he would put his quarters into privacy mode before he fell asleep. Harper had laughed and made a bad sexual joke about wanting a little "privacy" and Rommie had let it go with a roll of her eyes. Beka knew the real reason of course.

Though the night terrors where rare now, they still occurred. While he never talked about them she could see it in his face the next morning. Sometimes he was up to talking, other times not. When he wasn't she simply stayed near in the hopes of consoling him with her presence. Sometimes it was the only thing she could do.

Valentine sighed and ran a hand through her tangled hair. She knew her thoughts were getting a tad on the melodramatic side. Harper didn't want anyone to feel story for him. He didn't want looks of sympathy or encouraging pats on the back.

Harper didn't intentionally dwell in his past. He just suffered though the dreams and went on the next morning. But every time she saw him do it, she wondered what his breaking point would be. How much could a skinny little mudfoot take before the terrors he'd tried so hard to push back became too big to vanquish?

Today it didn't matter though. Harper was going to be fine like he always was. In no time he'd be up and about annoying them and Beka wouldn't have to worry about him. At least for a blessed while anyway.

The Med Deck's doors opened with its usual metallic hiss and Beka turned to see Trance make her way in, followed closely by Rommie.

Beka stood and put a finger to her mouth. "He's sleeping again," she whispered. "I was going to let him get a little more shut eye before he heads out of here. We all know he'll probably refuse to take it easy once he's back in his quarters."

"We need to talk, Beka," Trance said softly, motioning her outside.

Beka narrowed her eyebrows. "What's wrong?"

"Lets go outside, Beka," Rommie prodded.

"All right," the captain replied softly. She spared one last look at her sleeping friend and followed the pair outside. When the doors finally shut and they were alone in the corridor Beka put her hands on her hips. "Now, what the hell's going on?"

Trance and Rommie shared a quick glance and Beka felt her stomach drop.

"We have a theory about Harper's mysterious illness," Trance said. "We've called Dylan and Tyr to meet us in the conference room. You need to be there."

"I'm not going to enjoy this, am I?" Beka asked warily.

The silence she received from the others was the only answer she needed.

* * *

"No. Nonononono, and oh yeah… NO!"

"Beka," Rommie pleaded calmly, "you have to accept the possibly that Trance could be right."

Beka stood up violently, nearly knocking her chair backwards. "It all _sounds _fairly theoretical to me and I refuse to just _accept _it. Doesn't anybody think it could possibly be stress? Huh? He's been working like a Bandomeerian racing dog trying get those new upgrades installed on _Andromeda _for the past week and a half."

Trance shook her head sadly. "As much as I'd like to think that's all it is, the evidence just doesn't point that way. Harper has been having paranoid delusions, as well as auditory and visual hallucinations."

"Beka, please," Dylan said as he stood up next to her. He put a hand on her arm intending to comfort, but it only caused the veteran pilot to glare at him instead. "Just sit down and we will all figure out our next course of action."

Beka sat but refused to uncross her arms. "I know our next course of action. I take Harper on a long, soothing holiday away from here."

Trance sighed, wishing for once she wasn't the ship's resident physician. "Did you know he's been coming to me for headaches that last two months?"

"A lot of people get headaches, Trance. What's your point?"

"Migraines are often one of the first signs of this… illness."

Beka smirked, clearly sill unwilling to believe what she was hearing. "That's right, this so-call sickness."

"Harper has experienced what I believe to be a first break psychotic episode, Beka."

The blonde pilot rolled her eyes and Trance's calm broke.

"An episode that could quite possibly lead to a manifestation of full-blown hebephrenic-schizophrenia!" It was now the usually calm and collected alien that stood up, slamming her golden palms on the table harshly. "Do you think I want to be saying this, Beka? Do you think I take pleasure in giving this diagnosis? I damn well don't!"

The room fell silent as Trance gazed down at her friend. Beka felt her heart pounding furiously against her ribcage. The hush was silenced as Trance seemed to realize what she'd done and slipped back into her chair, feverishly wiping away a single tear.

"I- I'm-…" Beka swallowed. "I'm sorry, Trance. I want so much for you to be wrong and I refused to even admit that anything you were saying could have truth to it. It's- it's _Harper _we're talking about here."

Trance nodded. "I know."

Rommie stood up to speak, taking the burden from Trance.

"Harper's dopamine levels have rapidly increased in the left hemisphere of his brain," the android explained. "The headaches, the increase of dopamine, and the hallucinations are all symptoms of textflexi schizophrenia."

Tyr, who had been silent though the earlier exchange, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "I don't understand. How this could happen without us noticing signs before now?" he asked. "Besides that… is there not a cure? Surely with all that we have available to us…"

Rommie shrugged. "No one knows the precise cause of schizophrenia. Even with our advanced medical technology, most mental illnesses in the human brain still remain a mystery. No matter how much machinery we construct or scanners we use, the brain remains an advanced machine all its own."

The robot passed an information flexi across to Tyr. "Schizophrenia is typically only found in humans, or species with brains akin to theirs. Nietzscheans and Perseids can also be ravaged by this disease as well. However, with the genetic engineering in Nietzscheans, cases of schizophrenia are relatively rare. Most mentally ill Nietzscheans are either locked away when the first signs begin to show, or go on to become famous figures in the culture's lore," she said, trying to smile gently at the last remark.

"In some human cases the disease is genetic," Rommie went on, "but we really have no way of getting a history of Harper's family to see if that's where the root of the problem is. When it's not genetic, it's environmental and… Harper's time on Earth could also have played a major factor, even years later."

"What are our options if this is the case?" Tyr asked.

Rommie's optical sensors seemed to show her that Tyr hadn't been affected by the news. However, the ship's sensors monitoring his physical body spiked just a touch, revealing his apprehension.

"For now we're going to medicate him and let him rest in one of my guest quarters," the robot answered. "But if his symptoms persist or he becomes a threat to himself or anyone else…" She turned to Dylan. "We'll have no other choice but to commit him to a mental health facility. The _Andromeda _is not equipped for such a case and will not be able to provide the best possible treatment."

"I understand," Dylan said. He looked carefully at the motley crew surrounding him. All of them, in their own ways, cared for their resident engineer. If Harper did indeed have this illness, the earthling would need all of them to support him.

"This is a challenge being brought before us all. It is not something only Harper will have to deal with," Dylan said. He laced his fingers and rested his elbows on the table. "We all need Harper. _Andromeda _needs Harper. But most importantly, Harper needs us. We as a crew have yet to be overcome in battle. We have been scarred and worn, but _never _conquered. This illness, like all the other enemies we have defeated, will not find victory aboard this ship."

* * *

The VIP quarters aboard the _Andromeda Ascendant _couldn't be described as anything less than unadulterated heaven. The bed was nearly three times as large as Harper's own and was covered in multihued pillows. There was a bar filled with an assortment of fine liquors (that he regrettably wasn't allowed to touch) and a vidscreen larger than the one aboard the _Maru_. He hadn't checked the bathroom facilities yet, but Harper would be almost willing to bet his supply of Sparkys that the sink was made of gold.

"Hmm."

Harper turned his attention back to the game of GO set up on the table beside him. Across from him Beka sat starring hard at the layered board. The blonde pilot scratched her cheek in thought before suddenly perking up and, with a grin Harper could only describe as wicked, moved her small blue playing piece two squares over. She was nearing a win.

Harper glanced down in shock and muttered, "Oh."

Beka smiled brightly. "What? Didn't see that coming?"

"Actually I was thinking about something else," Harper said. Using his index finger to slide his own piece a square over, he efficiently blocked Beka from moving into a victory position. "GO. I should have done that two moves ago, I don't know what I was thinking."

Beka stared down in shock. The little bugger had beaten her. He always beat her. Damn. She sighed and began clearing the pieces. "Yeah, well, you're a little off."

"I don't feel off. I feel… I feel fine. No headaches, no tension, no dead friends coming for a visit," he answered.

"That's because it was just _stress_," Beka said as she placed all the GO pieces away in a tiny cloth bag. "And I have a very calming effect on stressed out people." She grinned again. "How about a game of Seck?"

"Eh, I'm not very good at Seck."

"Good!" Beka exclaimed eagerly. "Get the cards."

Harper sighed and stood up, ambling towards the room's oversized bureau. As he stretched out his hand to grasp the handle of the door, a sudden noise caught his attention. It was the same soft whistling sound he'd heard earlier in his quarters-- the distinct pop-hiss of a seal breaking. Harper's hand wavered as he realized it was coming from within the cabinet.

Seamus turned his head back towards Beka but found the space pilot nonchalantly putting away their previous game. His eyes drifted back towards the bureau and he took a step forward. His hand now rested on the handle. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real. Beka would have heard something…

But no matter how hard he tried to justify that the noise couldn't exist, his brain insisted that he was hearing something. Taking a deep breath and gripping the second handle with his other hand, Harper jerked the doors open.

There was no darkness, only the backing of the bureau. Extra blankets and other amenities lined the shelves but no stars twinkled in the background. Over the extra bedding on a higher shelf, however, was a silver box filled with card and dice games from all over the galaxy. Harper took hold of the container with one hand and pulled the doors shut on the cabinet. Swallowing his previous fear, he returned to his seat.

Beka took the offered box and found the Seck cards. Shuffling them like one of the pros Harper watched on the Seck Championship vids, the captain began to deal. Harper took his cards and mentally took inventory. A pair of grims, a kin and bos. Mediocre, but not necessarily losing cards. As Seamus put his kin card face down he looked up at Beka… and gasped.

A greenish parasite was slowly inching its way across the table and towards his unaware friend. The slime left behind by the creature steamed an instant on the table's surface before corroding it completely through. After their first dealings with the disastrous slugs from Virgil 4, Harper could identify one anywhere. How the hell had one managed stay aboard all this time? It had been months since they'd destroyed the rest of them.

"Um…. Boss…"

Beka looked up. "Yeah?" The blonde captain still seemed oblivious to the creature, even as it began to crawl across her exposed forearm. Harper nearly choked on the smell of burning flesh and bone.

"Boss… how… um… are you feeling okay?"

This time his friend smiled as the creature ascended her arm. "I'm good. Really good actually."

Harper couldn't take it any longer. He lunged for the creature, desperate to get it off of her. The instant he was up and jumping nearly across the table, Beka's instincts kicked in and she pushed away from table, barely managing to escape his tackle.

"Harper?" she asked carefully.

The engineered dove for her again but Beka was quicker. She managed to get both arms out in time to shove Harper backwards and away from her.

"Harper?! What the hell are you doing?!"

"It's on you! I have to get it off!" Harper screamed frantically. He made another leap but Beka caught his arms, struggling with him.

"There's nothing on me damnit! Harper!" She shook him as he tried to wriggle free. "Snap out of it!"

Her yell seemed to do the trick and Harper suddenly stopped fighting. He took a step backwards and his eyes searched the room before matching Beka's gaze. "It… it was hurting you, I couldn't let it hurt you… I'm sorry"

Harper's panicked eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. His mouth opened as if to say something else, but before he could utter another word his eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed.


	4. Come what may

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"Come what may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day."  
- Shakespeare, Macbeth I, III

* * *

To a normal being, outer space was a vast wasteland of nothingness. It was to be flown in and dumped in, it was a place to blow other ships apart or, like her predecessor Vex, to die in. To Trance, space was ethereal and beautiful. While others saw emptiness, she saw life. Stars blossoming and then fading far beyond what the physical eyes could see, planets rich with growing life forms. There were nebulas containing indescribable colors, unexplored slipstream paths waiting to be used, and galaxies that human eyes would never look upon.

She found solace in space. Just staring out into it and feeling all the life around her. Trance had been gazing at it for some time now, her thoughts a mixed fusion of images. She had tried to find a remedy, a perfect future where Harper was whole again. But what she saw… what she saw she had not yet been able to fully understand.

She could find no solution, only more questions. Harper's path ahead was filled with so much uncertainty. It was as if he was being pulled into a dark tunnel, all the while struggling to keep his hold on the lip of it but always sinking lower. The insanity was pulling him deeper and no matter how much he fought against it, it seemed to be winning. Trance knew this much: if they did not find a way to pull him back from the darkness he would be lost in it. Forever.

* * *

The deck plating was cold beneath her but Beka didn't have the energy nor the motivation to attempt to stand. No, she was content sitting here alone, back firmly planted against the bulkhead a few feet from the Med Deck doors. A dozen or so of the new crew had passed her, either giving her sympathetic glances or just staring at the frazzled woman plopped down on the deck. Not that she cared what a couple of High Guard flunkies thought of her. If she wanted to sit here alone in the corridors, her ass cold and getting numb… it was her Devineforsaken right to!

Beka sighed and pulled her knees to her chest and rested her forehead on them. "Damn," she muttered, "damn damn damn."

This wasn't right. She should be able to stand up and go back in there, ready to face whatever she might see… but she didn't think she could. Not for a while anyway. She'd been sitting with Harper for several hours, watching, waiting, not able to do a single thing for him as he screamed about things coming after him. There had been moments of clarity, instances where she had seen the real Harper surface just long enough to shakily smile up at her and then disappear back into the madness.

He was a good kid. He didn't deserve this. '_No_,' Beka reprimanded herself, '_Harper was not a kid_.' He had not been a kid for a very, very long time. He'd never had a childhood like hers, even as debauched as her own had been. He hadn't had regular birthday or Christmas gifts. On her eighth birthday, Beka had gotten her own VR dollhouse set that she'd played with for about a week. Harper had spent his eighth birthday hiding from a Magog raid that had killed his aunt and nearly taken his father from him.

Beka loved that little mudfoot more than she had ever loved anyone else, save for possibly her father, brother, and Uncle Sid (before of course he became the bastard that he was now). He had brought something back to her life when she'd kicked Bobby out. After him she'd thought her life was over.

Oh, she went on living, but some wouldn't call that life. Doing jobs across the galaxy with no more emotion than a Vedran slug. If Harper hadn't been there… Beka couldn't imagine herself even being alive. It took her at least two weeks to really pay attention to the little blonde creature roaming her ship. It was only when she did that things began to change. She had started laughing once more, and smiling. She was genuinely pleased to wake up in the mornings again, if only to marvel at Harper's freakishly strange addiction to coffee as she sat down to breakfast.

Over the years Harper had become her base. There had come others she loved and cared about. Trance, Rev, Dylan, Andromeda, Tyr… but Seamus was her center. Now it felt as if that foundation was cracking. What would she do when he was finally lost to her?

Approaching footfalls pulled her from her contemplation and she watched through her bent knees a large pair of boots come to a stop before her. They weren't spit shined like most High Guard issued footwear, which meant it wasn't a flukie or Dylan. They were clean, though well worn over the years.

Beka spoke, but did not look up. "What do you want, Tyr?"

Tyr, standing high above the pilot, crossed his arms. "Dylan wanted you to know that we'll be arriving within the hour."

"What? Andromeda couldn't have told me that?" Beka asked, finally raising her head. "Why'd Dylan send you? Were you bored or something?"

Tyr stared down at her a moment before replying evenly, "I volunteered so I could see how the Little Professor was doing."

Beka felt like a massive heel. "Oh. Well, um," she looked down at her knees, "he-- he isn't doing so well to tell you the truth. I don't know what I can do anymore. It's like he's going crazy one tiny bit at a time. "

The Nietzschean settled himself down next to Beka and stared off into the empty corridor. After a moment he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "I believe that an Earth author once theorized that true, unadulterated madness could not be achieved without significant intelligence. I suppose in Harper's case… he was right."

To anyone observing, the speaker would have been taken as terribly uncouth or heartless about the situation. But Beka knew Harper. She knew and understood that the occasionally cocky engineer would have said the same thing in a split second had he been able.

Suddenly Beka was laughing. And as she laughed, the giggles soon turned into hiccupped breathes and then, finally, silent tears that she couldn't control anymore.

Initially Beka was too caught in her grief to feel Tyr's arm around her, but as he wordlessly comforted her, she finally leaned into him and mourned for her friend.

* * *

too late. it was too late. the nietzschean was coming for him again. the same one who had tried earlier. there had been others, but he could distinguish this one simply by the way the corpse smirked.

he didn't understand why his friends didn't help him. the things would taunt him and touch him and he would plead for trance to just step over and stop it. but like always the alien did nothing. she stood with her back to him ignoring it all. beka had been here earlier too, sitting next to him, oblivious to the spirit's jeers she tried to talk to him. he couldn't understand what she'd been saying. every time he tried to explain what was happening she would look away.

why didn't they believe him? wasn't it clear what was going on? the nietzscheans wanted him. they were dead and needed his body to walk amongst the living. he couldn't let them win. the niets could never win as long as he lived and tried. lived and fought. lived and died only for their defeat. his father had taught him that, so long ago he could barely remember how old he was when he learned that lesson.

"harper…"

he began to breath so quickly his lungs ached. too late. it was back. too late. Oh god… somebody help…

* * *

The_ Andromeda Ascendant _dropped out of slipstream before the Perseid inhabited world of Sinti Four and waited for confirmation of its landing request. Dylan had contacted the Sinti Council of Directors a day ago in the hope that their Medical Science Department might have some insights into Harper's condition. He didn't expect the Perseids to have a cure for this illness, but it was possible the academically astute race and done research into it and might be willing to help.

The Command Deck doors opened and Tyr and Beka entered together. His second in command looked better than she had a few hours ago and Dylan wondered what the Nietzschean had said to her to cause such a change.

"Have they responded?" Valentine asked, wasting no time in making her way upfront.

Dylan stepped off of the pilot's dais and shook his head. "Give them a moment, we just arrived in the system. I'm sure they-"

"Captain," Andromeda interrupted, appearing on the view screen. "The Sinti Council of Directors has sent us verification to dock the _Maru _in port 62A. Technical Director Rekeeb will meet you there."

"Thank you, Andromeda," Dylan said. "Com Trance and tell her to get Harper ready for transport."

"Aye," the ship answered and disappeared.

Dylan turned back towards Beka. "Is the _Maru _ready?"

"As she'll ever be," Beka said, looking resolute though letting a quick smile slip.

Hunt raised an eyebrow. Tyr was good.

* * *

An hour and a half later the _Maru _was docked at one of Sinti's many ports. As promised, Director Rekeeb met the ship as it landed. The jittery Perseid boarded, eager to help in any way possible.

"After Doctor Hohne's passing, the Sinti Council promoted me to Technical Director." He looked down at the floor, appearing to examine his boots carefully. "The last time we met I did not conduct myself with proper decency. After Hohne's death I was… irrational. I assure--"

"Director," Dylan interrupted, "you apologized enough the first time. You were in shock and confused. We were all troubled by Hohne's death. Let's not dwell in what happened in the past and dig up old demons."

"Yes, of course," Rekeeb said, finally raising his gray head. "May I see Mr. Harper?"

Dylan nodded, but added, "Don't expect much. He's heavily sedated right now."

Hunt led the Technical Director to the _Maru's _crew quarters where Harper had been placed for the journey to Sinti. The Perseid swallowed hard as he entered the room. He took a step towards the bed and paused, glancing at Beka who was sitting on the opposite bunk, and then back at the ill human.

"Hohne spoke nothing but praise for Mr. Harper," Rekeeb said. "It was not until sometime after his death that I finally realized Hohne would have wanted that day to stay the way it went. He believed Mr. Harper's intellect to be more… unique… than his own." He smiled, showing a row of grayish flat teeth. "Not that he would have told anyone else of course."

"Harper felt the same about Hohne," Beka said quietly. "And he would appreciate that you came."

"Yes, thank you," Rekeeb answered, turning his full attention to Hunt once more. "I have no expertise in medical science as you know, but I have many friends within the department. I thought it would be helpful for you to have a sort of… guide while on Sinti."

"We're grateful," Dylan said. "We were told there would be a transport for Harper arriving shortly upon landing."

"Oh yes, yes," Rekeeb confirmed. "They should be here briefly. Let me contact Doctor Keenan. He will be the specialist you speak with while you are here."

While Rekeeb went to reach the Medical Director, Dylan stayed behind to speak with Beka. He looked a moment at the pale engineer lying across from them and sighed. "You realize he will have to institutionalized while the doctors work," he said.

"Yes."

Dylan nodded. "It's what's best. We all know he can't stay aboard the Andromeda. It's not equipped for a situation like this. It will be better for him here."

Beka didn't look up, but the tension in her voice was enough to tell him what she was feeling. "I know."

Dylan put a hand on her shoulder. "They'll find something."

Beka didn't answer.

* * *

they were moving him. where were they taking him? the Nietzscheans were gathering around him sneering. his friends were taking him to them! 'they wouldn't!' harper frantically thought.

'dylan… please! i know i'm a pain but don't do this! please! trance, you can do something. i've seen you do amazing things!'

but there was no other explanation. they were handing him over to them. he was being placed in what looked like a glass tube and someone was wrapping a blanket around him and pulling straps around his waist.

'beka! don't you see them? beka just look okay, for me. we have to stop them, you can't let them have me! why won't you listen to me?'

another strap went across his chest. 'no no no no no no! stop! leave me alone!' something pricked his arm and he fell back gasping for air.

someone took his hand and he leaned towards the figure. his vision blurted even more but he gripped the hand to his and squeezed tightly.

'please no, don't leave me for them!'

his sight cleared in time to see dead eyes staring down at him and he realized he was grasping cold, clammy fingers.

he screamed until blessed darkness finally washed over him.

* * *

Doctor Keenan, the lead researcher of the Sinti Medical Department, had received Seamus Harper's medical information an hour prior to his shipmates' arrival. Though an expert in his respected field of pharmaceutical science, Keenan knew what the human was battling may be beyond his own extensive knowledge.

The _Andromeda's _captain, his first officer, and ship's medic (a species of golden alien Keenan had never heard of before) sat before him. The other human was currently sedated in the medical care wing awaiting a transport to the psychiatric ward.

Doctor Keenan drew his hands together and set them on his desk. "As your ship has already informed you, schizophrenia in Perseids is rare. It is principally a human malady. The most famous paranoid schizophrenic case of our kind was Wayfinder Hasturi. I believe you refer to him as 'The Mad Perseid.'"

"We definitely know of him," Valentine said. "Kept a diary, yadda yadda."

Keenan nodded, showing every bit of his people's legendary humor. "Yes, the story is quite famous." He picked up a nearby flexi. "This is all the analyzed information we have on the disease you friend is suffering from. Several years ago a group of scientists in our very department were doing a study of different mental ailments. We made significant progress in several Perseid sicknesses, however, schizophrenia was not fully explored, due simply to the fact that it was not a common problem."

Hunt's second in command seemed to slump father into her seat. "So there's no hope," she said.

"Not necessarily," Doctor Keenan replied, shaking his head. "Though we do not have a cure, we believe we may be able to manufacture an antipsychotic medication which could help relieve the hallucinations and delusions he is suffering from. It may also better regulate his dopamine levels and correct the imbalance."

"It's that easy?" Hunt asked.

Keenan smiled. Obviously the captain and his crew cared greatly for the boy. "Nothing is certain. However, we will try our best. Even if the drug does succeed, there will be side effects, though hopefully less problematic as the disease itself. It would also be in his best interest to attend psychotherapy. We have many doctors here who would be willing to assist in the process."

"So what comes next?" Valentine asked impatiently.

"We will get Mr. Harper settled into the ward for the time being," Keenan answered. "Then we will need to give the researchers time. How long I cannot say. Everyone will have to take this one day at a time."

As he finished speaking, Valentine stood up and walked to Keenan's window. She stared off into one of the many gardens planted in the hospital's yard. Patients from all over the galaxy were roaming outside, getting just a touch of fresh air before they were once again whisked back into the their rooms. In his condition, Harper wouldn't even be able to enjoy the small luxury of walking outside on real grass for quite a long awhile

"Just time." The pilot sighed bitterly and closed her eyes. "Just…. time."


	5. They are prepared to see

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"People only see what they are prepared to see."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

Three days. Harper had been on Sinti for three days and there had been no progress. A day ago the doctors had tried their first dose of antipsychotic medication and the results had been less than pleasant. The drugs had ultimately only increased Harper's hallucinations ten fold. It had taken nearly two hours and a large amount of tranquilizers to calm him. Beka had been there every delicate step of the way, trying anything she could to help her friend.

Yesterday had been the first time she'd slept for more than a few hours- and that had only been because Trance had slipped a sedative into her dinner. She'd been furious when she'd awoken and remembered what had happened, but after a few minutes of screaming in the impassive girl's face, Beka realized how much better she felt with eight hours of sleep under her belt.

Now she stood outside of Harper's padded prison waiting for the others to arrive. She hated the idea of them seeing him like this, but she knew they deserved the chance to visit him. The first to round the hallway's corner was Dylan, followed closely by Rommie and Tyr. Trance had been along earlier and was now off consulting with the doctors on their newest drug.

"How's he doing?" Dylan asked as he approached. Beka realized for the first time that the usually stoic captain was looking a little rough around the edges. She sighed. Of course she wasn't the only one to care about Harper, she'd just been too wrapped up in what was going on to think about everyone else.

"So-so," she answered. "The doctor said he was acting a little more lucid today. Which, I suppose, is a good thing considering."

Approaching footsteps drew the group's attention to Doctor Keenan and a pair of burly Perseid aides following behind.

"It's good to see you again Captain Hunt," Keenan greeted. "I'm sorry I'm running late, we had a bit of a problem with another patient. Are you ready to see Mr. Harper?"

"Yes," Dylan answered. "Beka said he's a little better today."

Keenan placed his palm across a panel near the door and the device slowly scanned it. "Perhaps. I wouldn't expect much though." He smiled gently and pulled his hand from the wall. "If he becomes agitated, call the aides."

The door slid open and the doctor turned away to attend to his other duties. The two orderlies took up positions outside the door. Beka passed by the overly large Perseids and wondered why they were needed. What could Harper do that could possibly call for **two **aides? Kick their shins?

The group filed in, none quite sure what to expect. The room itself was bare. No furniture or even windows to decorate the walls. The only thing occupying it was the _Andromeda's _engineerAs they approached, the human sitting in the middle of the floor looked up. Harper's eyes slowly focused on the figures and his brow wrinkled in confusion.

Beka frowned. "It's us, Harper. Don't you recognize us?"

The engineer blinked a few times and finally said, "I… I was just making sure you weren't figments of my… mind." He began to pull insistently on the bottom of his shirt.

The outfit reminded Beka all too well of the medical scrubs used on the _Andromeda_. She even remembered the last time she'd seen him acting and looking as he did now. It had been when he'd first woken to find out he'd been infested with Magog eggs. Maybe it was nervous habit, but he'd nearly pulled the seams out of his top by the time he was allowed out of Med Deck.

Rommie crouched down in front of her friend and smiled gently. "How are you doing?"

Harper swallowed and looked down, tears building in his eyes. "They… they took away my toolbelt in case I… tried to… tried to hurt myself with something in it. Could you… get it back for me?"

Rommie looked back at Dylan and the Highguard nodded. "I'll ask Dr. Keenan, Harper."

"Thank you," Seamus whispered, still not looking at any of them.

"Are they treating you okay?" Beka asked.

Harper nodded, but as he did the tears he'd been holding back began to fall. He covered his face with his hands and softly sobbed into them. Beka's first instinct was to step forward and reach for him but she managed to quell her motion. A day ago when she'd tried to touch him he'd pulled away from her in fright and had a full blown panic attack. It had been a scary moment she wasn't eager to repeat.

After a time Harper seemed to collect himself enough to look up at them again. He wiped his palms furiously against his wet cheeks. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"For what?" Beka asked in confusion.

In the most rapid turn around she'd ever see, Harper began to suddenly snicker. "For being such a head case!" he responded, a smile cutting across his face.

"It's not your fault," Rommie whispered as she came to stand beside Dylan again.

"Harper," Tyr said, "Beka believes what happened might have something to do with the Limvris."

Beka glanced at the Nietzschean, surprised that he'd actually been listening to her earlier. She and Trance had been running through a timeline of events, trying to pinpoint when exactly Harper had started showing symptoms of his… sickness. Trance had been convinced it had been harboring inside of him for years. Beka, on the other hand, wasn't buying that. It was only after entering the chamber that he'd drastically changed. Not only that, but the change had been too rapid… too quick in her opinion. Perhaps something in the room had sped up the disease?

"You remember in that chamber when you said you felt something brush by you?" Beka asked, looking down at the other blonde.

Harper seemed to have sobered again. "Yes. It was them… I… I know you don't believe me, but I felt them." His eyes suddenly darted up to search the room. "They heard me!"

The engineer scrambled backwards until his back hit the white padded wall of the room. He pushed himself to his right in order to squeeze himself into the intersection of the walls and sat breathing heavily. "They're coming! They're coming…"

"Only your friends are here, Harper," Dylan said soothingly.

"They're coming! Footsteps! I hear footsteps!"

"Seamus!" Beka yelled. "There are _no_ footsteps. Stay with us!"

Harper pushed back against the wall, hyperventilating. "Footsteps! Footsteps! Stop! Make them go away! GO AWAY!" he shrieked and pointed to Tyr. "I told you, it's one of them. Next to you! It's right there!"

"There's no one at my side, Harper," Tyr answered forlornly.

"Yes," Harper whispered, "there is."

Dylan looked over and Rommie and shook his head. "Can you get the aides?"

As the android turned and knocked on the door, Harper suddenly jumped to his feet and rushed Tyr. The taller, broader man easily caught the struggling human. His arm went around Harper's upper chest and the other around his stomach to hold the boy's arms down.

Tyr felt Harper abruptly tense up and then squirming engineer was somehow slipping from his grasp. Harper jumped back and stared up at him with what Tyr thought, for a moment, looked like bright, lucid blue eyes.

"Something just went inside Tyr!" Harper yelled.

Behind the group the door slide opened and the two aides came barreling in.

"You're hallucinating Harper," Beka said sadly.

The aides both took one of Harper's thrashing arms and tried to pull the struggling human to the ground. "Don't just stand there," Harper screamed, "get it out of him!" He grunted as he was slammed to the padded flooring.

A nurse rushed into the room with a hypospray. Harper kicked out at the Perseids holding him but they only tightened their grip. The female nurse managed to get the device close enough to Harper's neck to inject him with the sedative.

Beka felt tears running down her face as she watched her friend go limp in the aides arms. For a moment his eyes met hers.

"… ello…" he whispered before giving into the medicine streaming through his body.

A moment later doctor Keenan rushed into the room followed by another orderly. "What happened?" he demanded.

"He was having another hallucination, Doctor," the nurse replied. "We managed to sedate him before he hurt himself."

Keenan sighed. "All right, let's raise the dose. Five mils at four hour intervals. Captain Hunt, I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you and your crew to leave."

"Of course," Dylan answered and turned to his friends. "Lets convene back on the ship. Beka, you need some sleep anyway."

"Dy--"

"EH!" Hunt exclaimed, pointing a finger at her. "Don't make me make this an order. Please."

Valentine sighed but nodded, glancing down one last time at Harper. The nurses and aides were crowded around him and she didn't think she'd even be able to get through to touch him.

Rommie and Tyr left first and Dylan watched Beka's back a moment. His second in command slowly turned towards the door and eventually followed her crewmates. Dylan was the last to leave.

In the middle of the room the group around Harper began to dissipate. Keenan ordered the aides back to their positions and the nurse to collect Harper's medflexi. The doctor gently arranged he boy's arms in a more comfortable position and finally stood up. The engineer was deeply sedated, but Keenan could see the faint outlines of his eyes moving below his pale eyelids.

"Good dreams, Mr. Harper."

* * *

Unlike the dilapidated exterior, the room looked as high-tech as the Andromeda Ascendant's bridge. It was smaller than what he expected and the gray, marble colored walls were plain, but the ceiling ascended much higher than that of Command back on the ship. It faintly reminded Harper of his workspace in the machine shop, save for the long red coverings that hung over some of the tables.

"Hey guys," Harper said. When they turned to look at him he pointed towards a shrouded alcove of the room. "I wonder what's in there."

"I am in there."

Tyr, Harper, and Beka drew their weapons, aiming at the alcove. It was dimly lit but even in the low light the figure of a person could be seen making its way out. Pushing through the crimson material that covered the archway was an old man. From what Harper could guess, he looked like he was going on ninety-- in human years.

The scene wavered and changed before Harper's eyes. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again the man was standing in front of him.

"You! You!" the elder cried, pointing at Harper. "Here, quickly! Inventions to fight the Nietzscheans!"

Harper walked towards the old man but stopped. This wasn't right. What was going on? Was this a dream? He knew this place, knew that he'd been here before. The man's name was on the tip of his tongue…

"Uh, hey, so what is all this stuff?" Beka asked, coming to stand beside him. "Weapons?"

"Yes," the man agreed, "weapons to fight the Nietzscheans and Magog!"

The name, it was so close… right there…

"You!" the elder called again to Harper. "Come! Come! Weapons to fight the Nietzscheans!"

"Machello," Harper finally whispered. "That's your name. I know you. You… you're dead."

The old man smiled and stepped closer to Harper as Beka and Tyr seemed to vanish behind them. Machello's blue eyes met his and Harper felt the man's gaze burn into his very soul.

"My work is very much alive though, thanks to you Seamus Harper. You have now delivered me to the vile Nietzschean so I may destroy it."


	6. In a mad world only the mad are sane

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"In a mad world only the mad are sane."

-Akira Kurosawa

* * *

Machello. Nietzscheans. Darkness. Limvris. Machello… Machello…

Seamus Harper sat up with a scream dying in the back of his throat. For nearly a minute all he could manage to do was blink and make a futile attempt to control his breathing.

The hell? He looked quickly around the unfamiliar room surrounding him and then down at the baggy clothing he was wearing.

"Huh?" Harper garbled aloud.

Vague memories rushed back to him faster than a hoverboard surfing slipstream. Dorran. The Limvris chamber. Dead Niets. Playing GO. Trance waiting nearby. Beka looking down at him. Hospital. Tyr in trouble. Whiteness. Machello.

Harper scrubbed his face roughly with his hands. This had to be a dream. A bad, bad dream that he was going to wake up from anytime now. He looked down at his hands as he lowered them and frowned. Trying something, he bit just enough on his bottom lip to taste blood on his tongue. Okay, so not a dream.

Harper made an attempt to stand but his knees folded under him and he found himself looking up at the white ceiling. This definitely wasn't Med Deck. He rolled to his side and propped himself up with one elbow. So here he was, alone in a room with walls covered in what looked like some kind of white pillows. He was wearing what appeared to be medical scrubs and felt like he had a hangover the size of St. Louie.

He tried to make sense of his muddled thoughts, but as he tried to focus his brain seemed to cloud over. He almost felt… drugged! He knew that feeling all too well. A little nauseous too now that he started thinking about it.

A noise startled him and Harper looked up. Someone had opened the door and was approaching him. It was a nurse, or at least, he thought it was.

It might be a little stereotypical, but Harper always pictured nurses as female. On a Perseid world, however, he supposed that was a little different. A Perseid could be anything it wanted really. They were all hermaphrodites by nature, with each sex being able to fertilize each other and carry the young. Though, the idea of male pregnancy, especially after having his own bundles of joyless Magog inside his belly, was enough to creep him out about the whole process.

"Hello, Mr. Harper," the Perseid greeted. She... he.... it, whatever, was carrying something in their hand but Harper couldn't make out what it was.

"Hi," he answered weakly.

"Dr. Keenan says it's time for your medicine," the nurse said.

Medicine? Oh, he didn't think so.

"I'm not sick."

The Perseid smiled and looked back towards the door. Two larger Perseids entered behind her. These two did look male, undeniably male. They reminded Harper of the bounty hunter who'd been after Gerentex a few years back. Reaper or something like that. Maybe they were long lost brothers?

Noting the tension in the air, Harper made another attempt at standing. He succeeded in getting to his feet and locking his knees to keep him vertical. So far, so good.

The nurse still approached slowly, while the other two followed closely behind her. "Calm down, Mr. Harper."

"I'm calm," Harper clarified. "I'm cool, I'm collected. I'm like a frickin' cucumber here. But huh… whatcha got in your hand if you don't mind me asking?"

The Perseid smiled gently, but nodded to the two shadows. The overly large duo came around her and advanced on him. Harper stepped backwards but his back hit the padded wall.

"Woah guys, look, I'm just a little out of it so if you'd kindly--" the words were barely out of his mouth before they were grabbing for him.

Using every trick he'd ever learned on Earth, Harper dogged the first set of beefy hands reaching for him. He looked up to see an angry face glaring at him and he ducked again, right between the two larger figures. He could see the doorway calling to him as he sprinted past them. He thought he was home free, until a hand wrapped around his ankle and he felt gravity yank him down. Harper's chin slammed into the ground and he grunted out an unintelligible cuss word.

Hands now took hold of his arms and pinned him to the ground. He kicked out in panic and connected with something hard.

"Stop!" Harper screamed. "Just listen to me! STOP!"

Something pricked his neck and he felt his body respond to whatever had just been injected into his system. He struggled a moment but it was like fighting two brick walls. Eventually the strain became too much and his strength failed him. He felt the hands release him and watched as three pairs of feet came to stand in front of his face.

He was going to pass out again...

_'Oh shi--'_

And he did.

* * *

The ride back to _Andromeda _was relatively quiet. None of the five on the _Maru_ were sure what to say to begin with. Random chitchat seemed inappropriate for the moment yet total silence seemed almost as bad. It felt as if the stillness was an acceptance of everything that had happened.

Beka unbuckled herself from the pilot seat of her ship and rubbed the back of her neck. She didn't want acceptance; she wanted answers.

"Beka? You coming?" Dylan called and stuck is head into the front cockpit.

"Yeah, on my way."

Beka followed Hunt to the airlock where Trance, Rommie, and Tyr stood waiting. Though it was open, none had stepped out.

"You guys didn't have to wait for me," Beka said as she approached.

Trance smiled. "We wanted to."

Beka nodded, grateful for their presence. "Thanks guys. I know I've been kind of a…" She paused.

"Bitch?" Dylan offered teasingly.

"I was going to say _pain_," Beka answered with a smile, "but yeah, that works too."

Everyone's mood seemed to ease at the joke. It was the first light moment in days and they were thankful for it. The group entered the _Andromeda _together but split in the corridor to go their separate ways. Dylan and Rommie were off to Command, Tyr headed left to his quarters, and Beka the other way to hers. Trance followed behind her as the two continued to talk.

Beka sighed as Trance caught up. "God, I hate seeing Harper like that."

Trance nodded. "There can't be anything worse than losing your mind and knowing it's happening."

"CAPTAIN!"

Beka instinctively turned back to see Andromeda Hologram shimmer into life behind her. The figure's back was to her, which meant she was calling to Dylan who'd gone the opposite way.

"Andromeda?" Beka heard Dylan respond. "What's wrong?"

Beka stopped her trek forward and ran towards the intersection of corridors. As she rounded the corner she saw Dylan and Rommie has halted as well. Beka only had a view of _Andromeda's _back but her voice had been deadly serious. The type of seriousness only a war ship could manage convincingly.

"It's Tyr," Andromeda went on, "he's collapsed in the corridor."

Together all four crew members rushed down the hallway the Nietzschean had just taken. Feet pounded the _Andromeda's _deckplating as they raced to their fallen friend. It looked as if Tyr had just been ready to turn into another corridor when something had stopped him. He was now on his knees, bent over with his forehead nearly touching the ground.

Beka and Trance were the first to reach him. Beka slid to a halt before the fallen man and went to her knees as well.

"Tyr? What's wrong?" she asked.

Dylan and Rommie arrived a second later. "Tyr?" the Captain asked.

Beka grabbed his shoulder to get his attention but the Nietzschean looked like he was in too much pain to talk.

"Help me get him to Med Deck!" Trance said taking one of Tyr's arms. Dylan followed and took the other, wrapping it around his neck.

"Hang on, Tyr," Beka murmured.

* * *

Harper glanced towards the shrouded machinery. "Sweet. You think you could show us how they work?"

Machello stared at the earthling a moment, his piercing eyes roaming Harper's body. "Are we sure we are not Nietzschean?"

"Hell yeah." Harper didn't think Tyr would be too happy with this idea, but weapons to fight the Magog (not that he didn't mind killing few Niets) would be a great asset to the Andromeda's armory.

"You! You!" the man cried, pointing at Harper. "Here, quickly! Inventions to fight the Nietzscheans!"

Shrugging his shoulders, Harper followed Machello to one of the smaller pedestals. The old man pulled off one of the shrouds, revealing a outlandish looking device. Though the craftsmanship was advanced, it reminded Seamus of two bicycle handles pasted together. He guessed the device to be about two feet high with the handles on each side measuring about three. Both sets of them jutted out an edge of the device. Machello came to stand before one set of the handles, motioning for him to move to the adjacent ones

"Now what?" Harper asked as he came to rest across from the old man. Machello placed his hands on each side of the grips, waiting for the engineer to do the same.

Harper reached out but stopped an inch from the handles. He couldn't touch the machine again. The last time… the last time he'd done it had switched bodies with Machello. He'd ended up in Med Deck dying of heart failure while the sneaky old bastard had run around on Kabelea enjoying his young, healthy (at that particular moment anyway) body.

He looked up at Machello. "No. I remember what happened."

The elderly man remained silent. Harper stepped around the machine towards him. "What do you want with me? You died… this can't be real."

"Seamus Harper, you have delivered me to the vile Nietzschean so I may destroy it."

"What does that mean?" Harper demanded.

Harper reached for the man but a white light blinded him and he flinched back. When he opened his eyes he was lying in a bed in Medical. Déjà vu.

He let his body fall back against the bed, wishing the aches in his body to cease.

"It's useless," he said, his dreamself falling back into old memories he couldn't help but repeat.

Trance looked up at her friend and frowned. "No, it's not, Andromeda has already concluded that it's a mixture of ancient Perseid and Acronic. We're getting closer, Harper."

"You keep saying that," Seamus replied, "but I've seen what she's gotten so far. I don't consider myself a linguist-- it's true what Beka says about me being unable to conjugate Common-- but this isn't right. The alphabets are similar yeah, but it looks like an original language."

"He's right," Andromeda's hologram said solemnly. "There's no sentence structure to the words. I'm not sure I'll be able to decode it without any more information. We need--"

"A Rosetta stone," Harper added.

"Yes," the ship answered. "I'm just afraid Machello is his own Rosetta stone. He may be the only one who can translate this for us."

"We'll get him to tell us, Harper," Trance said, taking his wrinkled hand into hers.

Harper grimaced again as the dream switched. When he opened his eyes again he was still on Med Deck. However, he was now staring at… himself. The young, healthy, vivacious him. Not as he was feeling now: old, ill, and feeble. The memories took over

"Well," Harper said, sitting up a bit, "from what I can see, you're looking good."

Machello snorted. "What would you have me say? I am sorry? I wish I could undo it? I do not. I have earned this. I earned it because I sacrificed my life for you and your people. The least you could do is compensate me with another life."

He glanced calmly at the man across from him. "Who exactly gave you the right to judge the value of my life?"

Machello's blue eyes filled with fury. "I have suffered more than anyone should suffer in a lifetime. For fifty years I fought against my enemies. I was eventually betrayed and turned in by my closest friends."

Harper shook his head and laughed lightly. "I've been betrayed by a lot people in my life. And the torture thing? It's not so bad once you get used to it."

"At least you still have a planet and friends," Machello spat. "Two billion of my people died rather than surrender me to the Nietzscheans."

"You've made sacrifices and we owe you… gratitude, but that still doesn't give you the right to take another's life."

Machello sneered. "If you had the technology, you would do the same."

"No, I wouldn't," Seamus answered, his voice becoming hoarse. "If I did I would be no better than the Niets."

"I am nothing like them!"

"The Nietzscheans use slaves because they think they are better than humans, because they believe they deserve it," Harper said, all the bitterness of his past flying back. "You're a Nietzschean, Machello. I'm nothing but a slave to you-- someone you can use and dispose of at will."

"I am not a Nietzschean," Machello replied, his words full of hatred.

Harper felt his chest tightening. "My planet is still salvageable. There's a chance I could still help save it-- you're stealing that chance."

Machello leaned closer, blue eyes on blue. "Even if you still had this body, you will never be able to save your world. It will always be dominated by the Nietzscheans."

"No," Harper protested, his breath now coming in short gasps. He could feel his heart racing in his chest. "I will help it. I will-"

The scanner monitoring Harper began to shrill.

"STOP!" Seamus screamed and the memories along with the pain in his lungs faded. He fell to the ground gasping for air, now alone in a padded white room.

"Machello!" No response. "MACHELLO! Answer me damnit!"

A voice began to whisper in his ear. "Seamus Harper, you have delivered me to the vile Nietzschean so I may destroy it."

"What does that mean?!" Harper demanded. "I don't understand! I don't understand!"

* * *

For the second time that day Seamus Harper woke with a start. His head was pounding and his lungs ached, but worse than his physical hurts was what his mind had just processed. He understood now.

He wasn't exactly sure where he was, but it didn't take a genius to figure that out. Though the last few days were still a general blur, he remembered enough. He remembered getting sick. He remembered playing GO with Beka. He remembered dead Nietzscheans. He also remembered something much worse involving Tyr. Something had gone inside of his friend. That he did remember all to clearly. And all of it had something to do with Machello, the man he, Beka, and Tyr had met on Kabelea almost a year ago.

The stranger had looked gentle at first, but it turned out the seemingly senile elder was in fact extremely manipulative and conniving. He'd tricked Harper into switching consciousnesses and left him in a terminally ill body. Besides himself, Machello's machines had also accidentally switched Tyr and Beka as well. The results had been… less than pleasant for both of them. Funny as hell though. The two never seemed to get the humor of it of course. Harper would have laughed too if he hadn't been so concerned about his heart stopping.

Deciding that is was time to act, Harper planted both of his palms firmly on the flooring and managed to get on all fours. After a second to compose himself he wobbled to his feet and rushed towards the door. Futilely he tried pulling at the seams of the door since there wasn't a handle to grip, but it refused to move. He resorted to hitting furiously on it instead.

'God, who was the doctor the nurse mentioned? Dylan said it earlier too. Doctor… Quiche?… Keys?… Keen?… so close…'

"Keenan!" Harper screamed as the name clicked. He pounded harder on the door, his fist beginning to throb. "Doctor Keenan!"


	7. Men are not prisoners of fate

* * *

Chapter 7

"Men are not prisoners of fate, but only prisoners of their own minds."

-Franklin D. Roosevelt

* * *

Someone was coming and this time Harper was 90 percent sure it wasn't a walking, talking cadaver. (He figured he'd save the last 10 percent for the heck of it. It was a weird universe after all. Who knew?)

The lock on the door released and Harper sat up straighter, his back plastered against the room's padded wall. He'd yelled all night with no one really paying him any mind. Maybe someone had finally decided to look in on him. Make sure he wasn't dead or anything.

The door opened and two figures entered. Damn. The brawny aides from before. He decided to call them Clichés Uno and Dos for the moment. Uno was carrying a tray of something that might have passed as food on some worlds.

"Hey guys, I know you probably don't care," Harper said, "but I really need to talk to Dr. Keenan."

Uno put the tray down and Dos took up a position by the door, glancing momentarily out the tiny window.

Harper didn't like the implications of this. "So, uh… dinner?" he asked, swallowing and trying to keep his voice from cracking.

Cliché Uno slowly approached, a feral grin on his face. Besides Reaper, Harper didn't know an excessive number of Perseids, but he'd always pictured them generally as pacifists and genteel beings. These two though definitely reminded Harper all too well of the Nietzschean lunkheads he'd dealt with back on Earth.

As soon as Uno was within close proximity he grabbed Harper by the lapel and then around the neck. The gray, beefy hand lifted him several feet in the air and slammed him into the wall. Seamus would have protested but he was to busy gasping for blessed oxygen.

"You think you can hurt me, little human?"

Harper eyes went wide. When he'd been fighting with them earlier his foot had made solid contact with… something. Now that he was up close and personal with the Perseid, he noticed the aide's swelled nose. It also had a lovely blackish tint to it too. Crap!

"S'ry…" Seamus managed.

"Some of us don't care if you're crazy or not," Uno went on. "If you ever fight back like that again you'll regret it." The aide smiled. "You don't even deserve to be here. Your friends should find a human hospital to take care of your pathetic existence. Or maybe just put you out of it. So you can either agree right now to be a good little scum bucket or pay for it later."

Harper nodded desperately, knowing he was seconds away from passing out if the goon didn't let go.

Uno released him and Harper dropped like a rock. He landed on his belly, gasping for air. Anger flooded into him and he mumbled the first thing that came to his mind.

"Stupid asshole."

As the words left his mouth he regretted them. Oh, double crap.

Still sucking in oxygen like a beached fish, Harper suddenly felt his left arm being pulled painfully being him and a knee dig into his lower back.

"What?" Uno demanded, yanking on the captured limb. He laughed and said something to Cliché Dos. Harper heard Dos open the door and call out to someone.

Uno leaned in closer, his knee digging painfully into Harper. "You'll regret that later, little human."

Seamus heard Dos speaking, something about the patient having an episode and attacking them. Harper's turned his head to see a nurse carrying a hypospray. No no no no! Not more sedatives! It had taken him hours to feel slightly normal again after the last dose.

Harper tried to protest but Uno twisted his wrist and he whimpered. The nurse bent next to him and stuck the metallic device to his neck, a few inches down from his port. He felt the familiar warmth of the drug flow through him. The knee on his back was removed and his abused arm dropped next to him. His eyesight began to blur and he closed his eyes, unwilling to fight a battle he knew he couldn't win. Here we go again…

* * *

Beka Valentine couldn't believe her luck. Truth be told, she was ready to strap a sonic grenade to Lady Luck's chest in her irritation. In a single week her brilliant engineer had mentally lost it and another friend was ill, possibly dying, and there wasn't a blasted thing she could do about any of it.

"His organs are slowly failing. I can't explain why," Trance was saying.

Beka was listening but she was also staring over at Tyr. He was just lying there, incredibly still and pale. The only thing that moved was his dark chest. Up, down, pause. Up, down, pause. She didn't think she'd ever seen the Kodiak so… motionless. It was a bit disconcerting.

"Is he having hallucinations like Harper?" Dylan asked. That question drew Beka from her cogitation and she looked over at Trance.

"No. His dopamine levels are normal," Trance answered. "Harper also didn't have the same physical symptoms that Tyr is having now. They seem to be unrelated."

Hunt looked down sullenly at his weapons officer. "How long does he have?"

"At the rate his organs are failing, I'd say two days… possibly three if we don't figure out what's wrong with him. His lungs seem to be the worst off at the moment. He may have to use a respirator by the end of the night."

"_Andromeda_," Dylan called and ships hologram appeared on command. "Contact the Perseids. Tell them we may need their help again."

Beka heard _Andromeda _acknowledge his order but she was looking over at Trance. The alien was listening to Dylan as well but there was something in her eyes that made Beka's stomach twist.

"They can't do anything for him, can they?

"Beka knew her words were more statement than question.

Trance look up and Valentine saw sorrow in her friend's eyes. "Anything is possible I suppose."

* * *

Once more the door to Harper's room opened, but this time he refused to acknowledge whoever his guest was. It was probably Uno and Dos back to torment him.

"Mr. Harper?" a kind voice asked.

Seamus decided it was worth it to look up and was surprised to see it wasn't the aides. Thank the Devine. Instead of the Cliché Brothers it was a smaller Perseid in a white lab coat. He looked to be a little taller than Harper himself and had a rather pronounced chin. It was probably a staple of Perseid high society.

"Mr. Harper, I'm doctor Keenan," the newcomer went on. "I was informed you were asking for me. I'm sorry I wasn't available. I was away at another facility until today."

Realizing this was finally his chance, Harper jumped to his feet. And then fell backwards into the wall, barely managing to keep on his feet. Nausea hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Just uh… give me a second," Harper mumbled, trying to quell his rebellious stomach.

"It's time for your medicine, Mr. Harper," Keenan said as he approached. He reached a hand towards the engineer but Seamus stepped back.

"Look, I don't uh… I don't need any more drugs. What I need is to get the ones you've got _in_ my system _out_ of my system."

Keenan gently smiled. "No, Seamus, you need rest."

"I think I've rested enough," Harper said, his stomach finally settling. "Just tell me one thing doc, is Tyr sick?"

"Not that I'm aware of," the Perseid answered. "I haven't seen your captain in a day or so though."

Harper clenched his teeth as his head began to pound. Round two of the drugs. He smacked a fist into the wall in anger.

"Mr. Harper, I insist you calm yourself, otherwise I'll have to have you restrained and further sedated."

Harper's eyes widened in irritation. "Why are you so quick to jump to the conclusion I'm crazy?" he asked, raisings his hands and shaking them next to his head. "That I'm dangerous, I'm out of control?!"

He felt the anger drain from him when he realized he'd just starting swinging his arms wildly. "It's 'cause I'm kinda acting that way, aren't I?" he mumbled.

Harper stepped farther away from the doctor and began to pace near the wall. He ran a hand across the white material. "I just… I just need to get these drugs out of my system. Look, Doc, I know you probably hear this from patients all the time, but I think I'm cured."

Keenan smiled again, this time his eyes light with a touch of humor. "You're right, I hear it all the time. I'm afraid it doesn't work that way. You don't get well from schizophrenia overnight."

Harper approached again. "You _do_ if there was an alien organism inside you making you _think_ that you were sick when you really weren't."

The doctor raised a delicate eyebrow. "And you… found this out how?"

"Machello told me."

The second brow went up. "And Machello is?"

Harper sighed and began to pace again. "He's an old man we met on Kabelea."

"Mr. Harper," Keenan corrected, "you haven't had any visitors besides your shipmates."

"No, of course I haven't," he answered. "Machello's dead." From the look on Doctor Keenan's face, Harper knew he was losing him.

"Dead? Yet he told you there was someone inside you making you appear crazy?" Keenan asked, his temperate voice filled with skepticism.

Harper scratched his head. "Yeah, so that's good point. I wouldn't, uh, I wouldn't buy that if I were you either." He contemplated his next words carefully. "Just do me a favor, okay? Contact the _Andromeda_, find out if Tyr is sick. If he is… promise me you'll let me talk to Beka Valentine."

* * *

Doctor Keenan left the human and walked to his office, mulling over the conversation he'd had with the boy. Obviously the last antipsychotic drug they'd given him hadn't prevented this recent episode. They'd have to start over again with a new medicine. Keenan had never had a challenge such as this, but he would do everything in his power to find something, anything, to help his patient.

When he arrived at his destination the weary Perseid sat down at his desk. He stared a moment at Mr. Harper's medflexi and frowned. He'd never said he was going to contact the _Andromeda_, per say. He supposed it couldn't hurt to ask of course. Then again, the human was clearly having hallucinations, this time about a dead old man he claimed had being talking to him.

Keenan glanced at his personal vid-communication device atop his table. Was it in his patient's best interest to just ignore the ill ranting? Or did he dare give into the fantasy?

* * *

Beka cradled the warm mug of coffee in her hands, savoring the drink's bitter tang in her mouth. It wasn't the time for a load of sweeteners or artificial flavoring. Now she just wanted that burn-your-esophagus-good-to-the-last-swallow-taste.

She was sitting aboard the _Eureka Maru, _resting comfortably in the pilot's chair and staring out the viewport. There wasn't anything to see of course, besides the glossy metal plating of the _Andromeda_'s walls. She almost wanted to tell Dylan she was leaving for a little while. Not for a great period of time or anything, she didn't want to leave Tyr. But just long enough to clear her head a little, get a little space (literally) between her and what was going on.

She drew in a deep breath and released it. A few years ago she might have done just that. Now… now things were different. She couldn't just run from her problems.

"Beka?"

Valentine turned to see Rommie standing silently behind her. She hadn't even noticed the other's approach.

"What's going on?" Beka asked, her heart quickening just a bit. "Tyr?"

The android shook her dark head. "Actually, it's Harper. His doctor contacted us and said there's been a… change."

Beka was actually surprised by that. She hadn't been expecting any developments with Harper anytime in the near future. "Is he okay?"

"As far as we know he's fine. However, he is asking for you."

Beka raised her coffee mug to her face and swallowed the last of the cooling liquid inside. She placed the cup in an open compartment by her seat for safekeeping and yanked the safety belt across her chest.

"Rommie, have _Andromeda _open the bay doors." She smiled back at the avatar and added, "And tell Dylan I'm going to see my engineer."


	8. Discovery consists of seeing

* * *

Chapter 8

"Discovery consists of seeing what everybody has seen  
and thinking what nobody has thought."

-Albert von Szent-Gyorgyi

* * *

Harper clutched his sore ribs, stubbornly refusing to look over at the tray of food placed near the door.

If he did… they won.

They might be bigger than him but they couldn't beat him in a full out mental game. There was no way these two Perseids morons, under the mistaken impression of being big and tough, would prevail in this contest. He'd seen horrors they'd only heard about in folk tales. He'd had blinking contests with homicidal Nietzscheans and faced bloodthirsty Magog. The monsters under their little Perseid beds had at one time been his oh-too-real reality.

The aides had paid him another visit again, roughing him up a little, re-injuring his already tender wrist. This time he had a lovely collection of bruises across the skin over his ribcage. He thought about telling someone, a nurse, doctor Keenan. But even if he did, who knew how many friends they had in the hospital. They might leave, only to be replaced by someone worse. He'd take his chances with Uno and Dos. So far they hadn't done him any serious harm. So far being the key phrase.

Uno had left the tray of food, telling him that if he ate any they would start breaking fingers and tell the doctors he'd attacked them. Not that he wanted the mush. This was the fifth meal in the past day they'd done this to. They'd leave the tray and recollect it later, dumping the contents. If a nurse saw it… well obviously the patient was refusing to eat. Yesterday he'd only had a little piece of fruit, a kind of Perseid unleavened bread, and water.

Harper bit his lip. While it didn't look good, whatever it was didn't smell half bad. After all, he hadn't had anything since early yesterday and it was late afternoon now. Just a little bite was all he… Harper looked away, tightening the hold on his abdomen.

The door to his cell… room… whatever it was, slid opened and Seamus held in a groan. He should have just taken the food, to hell with the consequences. Now it was too late.

"Hi, Harper, heard you wanted to see me."

Seamus swung his head towards the voice, nearly giving himself whiplash. The quick action left him a little dizzy but it was nothing compared to what stood before him. Harper had seen some beautiful things in his life, but to witness Beka Valentine standing there, haloed in the outside corridor's light, was a damn near religious experience for him.

"Boss!" Harper exclaimed, jumping to his feet. The dizziness and hunger were still there but he ignored them. He started for her only to realize that she'd taken a step back. Away from him.

He stopped his forward movement, forehead wrinkling. "Look, uh, Beka… you don't need to ah, walk on eggshells any more. I'm all better."

"So I heard," Beka said. She hadn't moved towards him, but she hadn't moved away either. "Ah, it's not that I doubt you but… why do you think it's happened all of sudden? Your getting better I mean?"

Harper turned from her and began to pace. "Well, I don't really understand it myself, but… I saw something come out of me and go into Tyr. And then I heard Machello's voice…"

"Machello?" Beka asked, crossing her arms. "As in, the very _dead _Machello?"

He nodded and put out his hands towards her, palms up, explaining. "Just, just hear me out, okay? I'm guessing it wasn't actually _him_ him. It was probably some sort of technological or organic recording. It said something about delivering Machello to the vile Nietzschean, which made me start thinking that maybe I had some sort of… Nietzschean killing device inside of me. One of Machello's inventions."

"And that's what made you…" Beka circled a finger around her temple, "nuts?"

"Well, since I'm obviously not an Uber, a side effect of this invention must make normal people act like they're… you know."

"Nuts?" Valentine mouthed.

Harper sighed. "Schizophrenic, Bek. Look, Tyr's sick, right?"

Beka nodded.

"Well, last I checked… wasn't he a _Nietzschean_?"

* * *

Beka Valentine sighed, realizing she wasn't getting through. "Look, Doc," she said, "I know this is going against everything you've been taught… but I trust him."

Keenan folded his gray hands together and lay them on his desk. "Captain Valentine, I understand that you trust him, and that he is your friend, but as a medical professional I can tell you that what you're implying is impossible."

Beka paced before the doctor's desk. "Look, I know this all sounds crazy, pardon the pun, but my gut is telling me to listen to him. How did he know about Tyr's illness? Did you tell him?"

"No," Keenan admitted. "When Mr. Harper asked me to contact the _Andromeda Ascendant_, I was not aware of your friend's sickness."

Valentine approached he Perseid's desk and placed both hands atop it. She leaned forward, face to face with the doctor. "Don't you see?" she asked. "That was too much of a coincidence. There was no way to know unless he was telling the truth. I need to take him back to _Andromeda_ and you're the one who can help me with that."

"I…"

"Please," Beka interrupted. "If this is all true, Harper could be our only link to helping Tyr. He's running out of time and even the Perseids you sent can't help him. We need Harper."

Everything in Keenan's mind told him to ignore the human's suggestion. She was acting irrationally. She only thought her friend was better, simply because his symptoms had temporarily reclined. Keenan's heart, nevertheless, was telling him to believe her. He couldn't deny that something had happened to Mr. Harper, a change, be it for better or worse. But she seemed adamant that he could be the one to help their Nietzscheanfriend.

Perhaps some things could not be answered with mere science alone. Keenan had never understood how Wayists were able to put their trust in something they couldn't see. They believed in something, had faith in something, that was for all purposes invisible to the eye. At one time he had thought them naïve for holding such beliefs over rational science. The more he thought about it now, the more he realized perhaps it wasn't they who were the closed minded ones. To have trust in something you couldn't see was more powerful than anything in a medical flexi. It was people like himself, scientists who denied anything that wasn't based on some principal or law of physics or medicine, who weren't willing to look beyond the normal.

Keenan looked up at the human. "I.."

'What are you doing?' his brain demanded. 'She can't be right! It's impossible!'

'Listen to her!' his conscience insisted. 'For once, take a leap of faith!'

He swallowed hard and found himself nodding. "I will get his paperwork ready for discharge."9;_'Fool,' his brain taunted while another part of him just smiled._

_

* * *

_

Harper tugged his pants up some more and then weaved the belt into the appropriate loops along his waist. He grabbed a clean undershirt and slipped it over his head (Beka had had some of his extra, older clothing on the and then slid on a blue Hawaiian shirt on top of that. He hadn't worn any of these in years. He missed them. They had always set him apart from the crew, even Beka and Tyr whose outfits hadn't been exactly High Guard issue either.

Harper looked down to make sure his fly was zipped one last time and then proceeded out the door of the doctors' locker room to where Beka stood waiting. He put on a lopsided grin as she turned towards him.

"What?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Just happy you're real. Now, can we get out of here?"

Valentine smiled a bit too and patted him on the back, motioning him forward. Harper tried not to let the pain of the blow show. He'd forgotten that Uno had taken pleasure in planting a foot on his shoulder once while he'd struggled with them. Just another bruise for the later inventory.

Ten minutes later, after they arrived in the docking bays via taxi transport, and the _Maru _was quickly prepped for take off. Harper thought about riding up front with Beka but decided to make a beeline for his bunk. The last dose of drugs they'd given him had only been a few hours ago and he was still feeling the effects. Beka had looked concerned when he had asked to go but he told her he hadn't gotten much sleep and would be fine in a little while. It was a half-truth anyway.

Harper plopped down on his bunk as the engines deep within the _Maru _began to hum. He planted his face in his pillow, inhaling deeply. He'd been in that room too long. No pillows, no blankets. Just padded floor that really wasn't all that padded come to think of it. He was surprised that he didn't have a giant crick in the neck after sleeping there for so many nights.

How many days had he been in there anyway? It probably hadn't been more than five or six, but it felt like eons had passed. Harper knew the ride back to _Andromeda _wouldn't be long but he closed his eyes anyway. He was asleep before the _Maru _even began moving.

* * *

Beka was unstrapping herself from the pilot's chair as the ship's com on the console came to life.

"It's Dylan, Beka. Do you have Harper?"

"Yup, he's here," she answered. "Well, here as in that he's on the _Maru._ He's in his bunk right now. He said he hadn't been getting much sleep. If docking with _Andromeda _didn't wake him, I'd like to let him sleep for maybe a hour or so."

Beka could hear the unease in Dylan's tone. "I understand he may be tired but we need to get him to tell us more about Machello."

Beka crossed her arms. "I know the circumstances. I won't let him stay out of it for long. I really think he needs it, Dylan."

"All right," Hunt conceded.

"How's Tyr?"

"As well as can be expected. He's currently on a ventilator to sustain his breathing. Trance has also started him on dialysis for his kidneys. They seem to be keeping him alive for the moment. The nanobots have been ineffectual so far in repairing any of the damage."

Beka nodded, though she knew Dylan couldn't see her movements. "I'll be on Command shortly. _Maru _out."

Beka pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes tightly, blocking out the light. She could only pray that Harper would be able to give them a good enough start at identifying something to help Tyr. He was quite literally their last hope. The Perseids had insisted Tyr be brought to Sinti for treatment but Trance was convinced that his best chance for survival was aboard the _Andromeda_. Besides, the war ship was more than adequately equipped for a full-blown medical emergency. If Tyr couldn't be helped aboard the top of the line High Guard vessel like _Andromeda_, he wasn't going to stand any more of a chance in some on-planet hospital.

"Beka?"

Beka opened her eyes and turned to see Harper standing in the doorway.

"Hey," she greeted. "I thought you were going to take a nap?"

Harper shrugged. "Oh, you know, couldn't sleep."

Something in his eyes told her he was lying to her, but she wouldn't confront him now about it. He looked too worn for it. She was already beginning to feel the tendrils of guilt work their way around her conscious. She didn't think it would really hit her what they had all allowed him to go through until later. But when it did… well, she'd cross that bridge when the time came. Right now their focus had to be on Tyr. Later they could think about everything else.

"Can I see Tyr?" Harper asked.

Beka gently smiled. "Sure."

* * *

"Your dopamine levels are back to normal."

Harper looked up from his vigil over Tyr to stare at Trance. "_I'm _back to normal."

Trance nodded though stepped away from him slightly, sensing his frustration.

"All right, Harper," Rommie said, breaking the tension, "let's say your concept about Machello's killing invention is right. Why did it take so long to go into Tyr?"

"I don't know. Maybe it needed a close proximity to sense he was Nietzschean," Seamus answered. He could see from Rommie's face that his creation didn't seem entirely convinced. He had given her the ability to look skeptical and she was definitely doing a damn good job of it.

"Look, I had a lot of time locked in that little white room to think about this. It makes sense. Why am I back to normal? And, coincidentally, hours after touching me, Tyr is sick?"

"Why didn't _I_ get sick when we were playing cards the other night and you were jumping all over me?" Beka asked.

Harper unintentionally found himself glaring. "Because last I heard you weren't an Uber."

Beka opened her mouth to retort but Trance cut back into the conversation. "All right, Harper, listen to me. We ran every test and scan we have. He even had a full blood work up. There's been nothing foreign detected in Tyr."

"It's there!" Harper insisted. "I know it is… I saw it go into him. It was small, about the size of a luminara worm."

"Harper, those bodies on Dorran had been there for years," Rommie said. "We know from what little information we could collect from the Kabelean government that from Machello hadn't been off planet for nearly twenty years before we found him. He wasn't anywhere near Dorran when those Nietzscheans died."

Harper began to pace next to Tyr's bed. "So he created those devices thirty years ago before the Limvris held their little shindig. All he had to do was get someone to plant them there for him. Some human slave who had access to their supplies. Then the Niets walk into their meeting and…"

Beka hopped off the empty medical bed she'd been perched on. "… boom… Like a land mine."

"Yes!" Harper exclaimed. "World War Four mines are still going off on Earth today even though the soldiers that planted them croaked a long time ago. Trance, can I access _Andromeda's _database from that console over there?" He pointed to an out of the way monitor.

Trance nodded and Harper went to the touch pad, his hands flying fast over the panel. "Remember when the Kabelean government carted off all of Machello's devices? I kept an inventory of it on file on _Andromeda_. I thought maybe one day I'd be able to figure out Machello's code. I want to see if I can pull up anything familiar."

Harper accessed the file he was searching for and found a photo directory of all of the items recovered from Machello's. He breezed through the images rapidly, looking for something that could have been their mine.

Suddenly Trance yelled, "Stop!" and the image on screen froze.

Harper felt his eyes widen. It was a datapad. "Damn," he muttered. "I picked one of those up in the Limvris chamber."

Rommie stepped up next to Harper and typed something on the controls. Another image appeared, this time it was of twelve datapads that had been removed from a crate in Machello's lab.

"That's a lot of datapads for one guy," Beka responded, joining the others. "I think we may have just found our land mine."


	9. Dealing with the consequences

* * *

**Chapter 9**

_"Honor isn't about making the right choices.  
__It's about dealing with the consequences."_

-Midori Koto

* * *

A week ago a shower had been a luxury. Now it was something Harper couldn't finish fast enough. He'd tried to take his time, but every second it lasted he could hear the voices calling his name. He knew they were just memories, but they felt as real as they had been earlier.

Harper stemmed the water and toweled himself off, quickly pulling the soft cloth around his abdomen. He stepped out of the cubicle and froze as he passed the room's mirror, noticing that he didn't even look the same anymore. Harper turned and gazed harder into it, dragging a hand over his face and realizing he needed a shave badly. The thin skin under his eyes was dark and his bare chest was littered with ugly bruises. He looked like he did when he was back on…

He managed to make it to the disposal unit before he threw up, however, seeing as he hadn't really eaten anything of substance in days there was very little there. He'd gone in search of food when he'd first arrived aboard _Andromeda _but found that he couldn't tolerate the smell of it. He managed to eat a few bites of a candy bar he'd hidden in his quarters and keep it down. Until now of course.

Harper coughed and fell onto his backside, his head in his hands. He was still dizzy from the medicine and now the nausea seemed to be back as well. Lovely. God, what had they given him at that nut house? The everlasting drug or something?

Five minutes after retching, Harper felt up to standing again, though his stomach still vehemently protested the action. He managed to change into some clean loose clothing and stumble to his bed. Nothing had ever felt so good. He buried his head in the pillow and sighed.

Dylan had said he had a few hours to rest before they reached their destination. Apparently there was were some last minute dealings with the Sinti government and then they would slipstream to Kabela to collect Machello's devices, most importantly, his datapads. Harper wasn't sure exactly how he was going to be able to help Tyr, but he was going to try his damnedest once he got a look at Machello's work.

He'd told Rommie after his body switching ordeal that he hadn't hated Machello. He hadn't liked being used in such a way… but the old coot wasn't so very different than he was really. Machello had lost his family, friends, and world to the Nietzscheans and Magog. Harper of all people could relate to that. In the end though, as he lay dying, Machello had thanked him for giving him the experience to live again, even if it had been for a single day. Harper wasn't saying he wanted to hug the guy and invite him over a beer and a smashball game… but in that moment they had truly understood one another.

Harper rolled over and groaned as his sore back touched the mattress. He closed his eyes tightly and tried not to let himself even think about tears. The anger he was feeling was there, bubbling beneath the surface. The silent rage over everything that had happened.

Why had _he _been the one to get chucked in the loony bin? How long had they waited to send him off to Sinti? One day? Two maybe? Everyone, Dylan, Beka, Trance, Rommie… hell, even Tyr, hadn't hesitated to just toss him in, not even thinking there could be something more to what was going on.

Oh, flaky old Harper had finally lost it! In he goes! The rational part of his brain was telling him they were his friends and cared about his well being, but his emotions were screaming one word at him: betrayal.

Had he been betrayed? Maybe, maybe not.

Sleep didn't come for Harper as the _Andromeda _slide into slipstream bound for Kabela. He lay for an hour staring at the ceiling, wishing he would wake up any minute and realize this had all just been a freaky dream. He sighed. If wishes were thrones, well, he wouldn't he here now, would he? That Seraglio he'd wanted all those years ago was looking more and more tempting…

* * *

"I will send someone to collect the requested items immediately, Captain Hunt."

Dylan smiled and nodded at the Kabelan man. "Thank you councilman."

"Would you like us to turn them on? Make sure they are the correct datapads you are looking for? All of the pads were seals together, pending further investigation. However, only the larger devices have been examined."

Hunt opened his mouth but was interrupted by Harper's sudden yell of, "No!" as the engineer sprinted onto the Command Deck.

"Harper?" Dylan asked.

Harper was panting a bit and holding onto a console for support but said, "No… don't… don't turn the data pads on. I think… think that's how I was infected… by turning it on."

The councilman on screen nodded to the tired earthling, though looked a bit bewildered. "All right, the datapads will be sent in their original crates. We should have a transport deliver them in a little over an hour."

"Thank you, councilman. Hunt out."

Beka, who'd been near Dylan observing the conversation with the Kabelan official, couldn't take her eyes of Harper. Was he actually _grey _looking? Or was it just the light?

"You okay, Harper?" she asked

Seamus let go of the console and smiled slightly. "Sure, Boss. Just glad they didn't decide to turn those puppies on. They were probably fortunate they hadn't started work on them yet. Who knows how many people could have been infected, ya know?"

'I wasn't really concerned about them,' Beka thought, but said aloud, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Did you get any sleep?"

"Yep," he responded. That was all he was willing to give apparently.

She raised an eyebrow. Now he was being _quick _and to the _point_? That wasn't like him. She hadn't expected him to be 100 percent after everything that had happened but…

Harper put his hands in his pockets and stepped away from them. "Uh… I'm going to be in my workshop. Com me when the data pads get here."

Faster than a panicked crab disappearing down into the sand, he was gone, off doing… whatever. Beka sighed.

"You okay?" Dylan asked, typing something into the panel before him. He hadn't looked at Beka but she knew who his question was directed at.

"Yep."

Dylan finally turned to stare at her. "Now you sound like Harper."

Beka covered her face with her hands a moment and then pulled them back. "Dylan… what we did… to Harper I mean… it's…"

"It's what we thought was best for him, Beka."

"I know that, I do," Beka said, crossing her arms, "but there's another part of me that… feels guilty. I really don't know if we'll be… _okay _when this is all said and done."

Dylan smiled and closed the gap between them. "Harper loves you," he responded, putting a hand on her upper arm. "You just have to trust that he'll remember that when this is over with."

* * *

How To Help An Ill Nietzschean 101. Step One: Determine Problem. Step Two: Fix Problem. Step Three: Fiesta!

Harper sighed and slide down one of the walls in his workshop. He lay his arms over his bent knees and buried his head in them. At the rate he was going, he'd reach Step One by the time he was Machello's age. For a while he'd begun to think he might be able to come up with an idea… but he wasn't exactly having getting any "Eureka!" moments to speak of and time was running out for said Nietzschean.

Soon the datapads would arrive and he'd meet the others in one of the laboratories to see if his little theory (or should he say Beka's?) about the landmines was true. How that was going to help them per se? He didn't know just yet.

Right on schedule, _Andromeda's _hologram appeared next to him.

"Harper, the pads have arrived," the transparent figure said

"Be right there," he mumbled, his face still planted in his arms.

"Are you all right, Harper?" He didn't have to see her to know she was probably giving him one of her a subtle looks of concern. Warships weren't supposed to look concerned, about anything, but he could always tell when she was worried. "Your vitals are a bit weak. Maybe Trance should have another look at you?"

Harper, head still down, said, "Look, Droms, I'm fine. Just haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately. When we figure this out… I'll be a regular Rip Van Winkle, okay?"

This time he hoped his own act would be enough. Luckily for him, the ship didn't seem to be in the mood for a fight and the AI argued no further with him.

'Small victories,' Harper thought as he looked up in time to see her image disappear. He ran a hand over his stubble a moment and then dug the palm into his eye, willing his headache to go away. At least none of his Nietzschean friends were back…

Harper dropped his hand and his eyes popped open. He scanned the room warily, just to be sure. No Niets. No closets. No voices. He was the old Harper once again. A little eccentric, a little wacky, but certainly not crazy... right?

Right?

* * *

When Machello's inventions arrived on the _Andromeda, _the first thing Dylan made sure to do was seal them in a quarantine chamber. Besides the thick glass paneling, it was also surrounded by a nearly invisible force field, similar, though not as powerful, as the one used in the ships' brig. The only openings in the small chamber allowed whomever was working to slip their hands into gloves that were attached to the chamber and work on what was inside. The field surrounding the device was only dissected when it touched the gloves, though it then continued on the other side of the material as if it had never been broken.

Inside the chamber, Rommie was opening the small crate the contained the dozen datapads. Trance had wanted to be involved in the research but Tyr had taken another turn for the worse. This time it was his heart. The few hours they had had initially were running out. She'd managed to get the vital organ pumping again, but for how long she didn't know.

Carefully the android laid out the twelve inactive devices. Once lined up, she picked up a long metal instrument and used it to turn on the first pad. The tiny machine glowed in typical fashion and the screen lit up brightly. Though the language scrolling across it was foreign to them, the device itself didn't appear any different. Using the instrument once more, Rommie proceeded to turn it off. Sure enough, when the proper button was pushed, the light disappeared and it lay dormant again. Rommie looked over at Harper.

The engineer leaned towards the chamber, peering into it. "Try the next one."

Rommie moved to the next pad and proceeded to turn it on. Like the one prior, the view screen came to life, the same strange words moving across it. Still using the metal instrument she proceeded to press the different keys but nothing, save for more code, appeared.

Harper crossed his arms. "I _know _I saw something. This has got to be it. Keep trying."

Rommie nodded and continued on. If she was doubtful of him she didn't show it. By the time she reached the eighth pad nothing had happened. On turning on the ninth and still finding nothing but scrolling text, the robot put down the clamp and looked up at her engineer.

"Harper, to use one of your own quotes, I think we're on a wild Magog chase." She looked over at Dylan and noticed her captain seemed to have the same idea.

Harper bit his bottom lip in frustration and stared down at the datapad. He was about to concede to their suggestion when the text on the bright screen suddenly changed and something started sliding out of the pad and onto the camber's bottom.

"L-l-look!" he stuttered, instinctively moving backwards. "It's… it's them!"

The group turned to peer into the quarantine chamber and all felt their eyes widen as several creatures, about the size of small luminara worms, began to slide from the device. The organisms looked to be about an inch in length and were a pale, nearly translucent cerulean.

"Damn," Beka muttered as see watched them slide around. They didn't appear to have legs and just slithered rapidly around the chamber on their flat middles like slugs on Flash.

Harper felt a bit giddy at the discovery, only because it proved he hadn't been completely insane after all. The creatures existed.

"I count ten total," Rommie said. "If all his altered pads are the same we're looking at about ten per device."

"That explains how I got infected," Harper interjected. "There were nine Limvris."

Beka finished with, "And when you activated the device, the last one went into you."

"I'm going to try and immobilize one to put it under the scope," Rommie continued. Try as she might, however, the android couldn't seem to get a good grip on one of the rapidly moving creatures and asked Beka to help her trap one. The blonde moved to the opposite side of the container and inserted her hands into the other pair of gloves. Together they both attempted to restrain one of the specimens with the clamps.

After a moment Beka smiled in triumph. "Got one!" she proclaimed as she looked down at the blue, struggling organism held within her clamp.

Valentine's smile suddenly broke and she dropped the clamp. Harper watched in horror as four of the creatures disappeared into the material of the gloves… directly into her hand.

"The gloves are breached!" Rommie yelled in warning but it came to late. One of the specimens disappeared into the android's covered hands as well.

Both Beka and Rommie yanked their hands from the gloves, shoving the material into the chamber. Atomically the force field filled in the open gap.

"_Andromeda_!" Dylan yelled. "Triple the power on that force field!"

The field around the chamber noticeably brightened, and the remaining four creatures seemed to be unable to penetrate it. Beka and Rommie on the other hand were already compromised. Valentine was panicking, scratching at her arms, nails digging deeply into her arm and Rommie was staring down at the spot where the creature had disappeared into her artificial skin.

"Beka! Rommie! " Harper called. He made a move towards them but Dylan's hand came across his chest.

"No, you could get infected again," Hunt said, his tone deadly serious.

"But, I may be immune now!" he protested. "I might be the only one who _can _touch them."

Dylan kept the engineer planted in the same spot. "Do you know that for sure? Can you tell me that you're 100 percent positive that is can't you again? You had one in you, Harper. Beka has several. Who's to say one of the extras won't jump bodies?"

Harper wanted to answer yes… but there was no way he could. He was only guessing that they couldn't jump from human to human because he hadn't infected anyone but Tyr. Dylan was right though. Beka had at least four inside of her and he couldn't take the chance of being infected again. Rommie also had one in her and there was no telling how it would react with her systems. At any moment it could realize the skin it had disappeared into wasn't real and then what? Come for him or Dylan?

Across from them Beka had stopped her furious scratching, finally realizing it was a futile gesture. She dropped her hands and looked over at Rommie. The android was calm, though looked a bit baffled at their predicament.

Valentine's eyes found Dylan and the engineer he was holding in place. The older man's face appeared uneasy and Harper look downright aghast by the entire situation. She knew the feeling.

"Great," Beka deadpanned. "Just _great_."

* * *

FROM THE PILOT:

Harper: How are we gonna spend our money?

Beka: Lemme guess. A little cottage by the lakeshore, a white picket fence, dog? All the traditional mudfoot accessories.

Harper: Not even close. I have one word for you two. Seraglio.

Trance: Ser-what?

Beka: Seraglio. Slave girls and grapes. Eunuch guards. Classy.

Harper: Hey, don't forget the silk wall-hangings! I love silk wall-hangings. The only reason I go is for the silk wall-hangings.

Beka: Harper, you are truly disgusting.

Harper: I try.

* * *


	10. I have the universe against me

**

* * *

**

Chapter 10

"If I have lost confidence in myself, I have the universe against me."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

* * *

The lab room presently occupied by Beka and Rommie was now sealed off by a forcefield that completely enveloped half of the room and flooring beneath. The creatures within the original contamination chamber had yet to penetrate the field surrounding it, and Dylan wanted to make sure the others, if they decided to leave their unwilling hosts, would not be able to escape the lab.

Presently engrossed in trying to find a solution, Harper and Dylan stood on the side of the room that was unsealed, scanning the computer database of Machello's inventions.

The engineer pulled up a picture of the datapad he'd found within the Limvris chamber. The symbols scrolling across the first electronic page were all too familiar, though he couldn't't translate the elaborate code anymore than he could conjugate Celtic.

"There's gotta be something on here that can help us," Harper muttered, his eyes fixed on the static image before them.

"Not if we can't decode it," Dylan responded. "And we know without Machello's help the ciphers may never be broken."

Harper looked up at the taller blonde man and raised an eyebrow. "Boss, that was… cynical. I'm the one on this ship who always thinks negatively."

Dylan shrugged, still leaning over Harper's shoulder. "Sorry. I'll try to be more optimistic with my next remarks."

The engineer nodded. "Good." He let his eyes drift back to the screen.

"Anything we can do in here?" Beka asked after a moment from across the room. Having no chairs in her half of the laboratory and feeling a bit weak in the knees, she'd settled herself down on the floor to wait.

"I doubt it," Harper answered her. "Look, Bek, considering how many you have in you, I'm guessing your symptoms will start sooner than mine did."

She crossed her arms. "Thanks, Harper. You know, in that case, I'd like to apologize in advance for anything I may say, or do, that could be construed as offensive, as I _slowly go nuts_," she said, her voice raising in annoyance.

Harper stepped away from the computer, giving his eyes a break, and went to stand a foot or so from the nearly transparent force field. "Rommie? How are you feeling? Any change?"

The android, who was next to Beka but still on her feet, shook her head. "So far I've had no averse effects. My sensors can detect it moving, however. I'm not sure it knows what do with my artificial systems."

"Can it do anything to her?" Beka asked, looking up at the robot above her. "I mean, she isn't exactly physical in the flesh and blood sense."

"I don't know," Harper answered, "but I wouldn't put anything past Machello. The guy was brilliant but a little off his rocker, if you know what I mean. It might negatively effect her systems once it realizes it isn't in a real human body."

Dylan took a few steps towards the forcefield barrier and came to stand on Harper's left.

"What about" he began, but stopped as Rommie made a sudden bee-line towards the combination chamber where the other creatures were sealed.

"Rom?" Harper asked as he watched the android move across the room.

He realized, as she came to stand before the equipment tray, that she hadn't been heading towards the chamber at all. Harper watched in calm fascination as Rommie picked up something from the tray he could only describe as a glorified, six-inch ice pick.

"Rommie?" both Harper and Dylan asked tentatively at the same time.

"Just a minute," she answered, raising the pick above the underside of her right arm.

Harper knew Rommie was an android. Hell, he'd built her with his own two hands. He knew, as humanlike as she was, she didn't feel physical pain or other bodily symptoms like humans. He was all too well aware that under Rommie's pale skin was a smorgasbord of wiring, gears and superconductor fluid.

But as his friend stabbed the instrument though her own arm with a sickening

coolness… he almost found himself upchucking on Dylan's shinny black boots.

There was a moment of silence, finally broken by Beka. "Damnnnn," she murmured.

"Rommie!" Dylan yelled, the shock still showing on his face. "What are you doing?"

With the lab tool still impaled in her right arm, Rommie reached over to the tray with her left and extracted a small scalpel like device from it. "The creature," was all she offered to them.

His stomach now settled down again, Harper watched enthralled as Rommie began to cut around the sharp edge of the instrument in her skin. She made a small line with the scalpel near the entry point of the pick and then used the dull edge of the scalpel to peal back the synthetic skin. He could see what looked to be superconductor fluid and other lubricants leaking slightly from her arm and prayed she hadn't damaged herself too much.

Still ignoring them, Rommie prodded within the wound for a few moments before slowly pulling the object from her flesh. As she completely removed it from her arm the small, blue creature came along with it, impaled by the very tip of the tool. Harper thought he saw its flop maybe once before ceasing movement altogether.

"You got it?" a puzzled Dylan asked.

The android finally looked up at them. "I could sense it moving within my arm and thought this would be the quickest way to remove it. It worked."

"You could have hurt yourself!" Harper half-yelled, not truly angry yet still displeased by her reckless behavior.

"I didn't harm any of my arm's motor functions, Harper," Rommie justified. "I made sure of that." She wiggled her fingers to prove it and a small bit of fluid squirted out and hit the ground. The avatar shrugged sheepishly.

"The creature," Dylan interrupted, "do you think it's dead?"

Rommie held up the tool to stare at the thing pierced on it. "I think so. I'm not detecting any electronic impulses from within it like the others. Its glow has also faded."

"I could take a look at it, Boss," Harper offered. "If it's deactivated it won't be a problem."

"_If_ being the key word," Dylan replied. "I'm sorry, I can't risk this thing getting out and infecting the crew or you again, Harper. Rommie is the only one who can stay in there."

"Dylan! Tyr is dying and it's quite literally now or never! We can't have any more of this caution bullshit if we hope to do something about it!" Harper protested angrily.

He opened his mouth to rip into the High Guard a little more but closed it. Instead of more angry words he turned and walked out of the lab, his head aching and the room spinning dangerously.

Once the door closed behind him he trotted down the corridor, unsure of where he was going. Finding the first maintenance shaft available, he keyed the door opened and slid inside. He shut the entrance and scooted deeper into the duct.

If someone wanted to be alone, here was the place to go. The crewmembers who were forced to work in the shafts only did so when direly needed. Most found the tight space too closed off, but for him it was perfect. His size allowed him easier access and there were plenty of open areas deeper in the ship that allowed him to sit up.

Once far enough inside he found a nice place to stop and sat against the wall. He lay his forehead on his bent knees, thankful to be free from that room.

The bulkhead was cold on his back but he ignored the chill creeping into him. "Damn," he muttered, "damn damn damn."

He smiled into his knees. That was Beka's favorite mantra when things were bad. Four little words in row, said so vehemently they become worse than any other vulgar words ever invented.

His smile waved as his mind pictured his friend writhing on the floor, seeing things that weren't there. Calling for help that would never come. He could barely acknowledge what had happened to himself and didn't even want to fathom the idea of seeing Beka like that.

There had to be something he could do. He was missing something vital. He'd thought earlier that he could build something to stop them, but that didn't seem to be an option. Even if he could create something to fight the creatures internally, it could take weeks to design and manufacture.

Harper knew that whatever it took, he wouldn't let Beka go through what he had. People like Uno and Dos would not have a new plaything. He'd make sure of that.

Wearily he looked up. "Andromeda?"

A miniature of the ship's hologram materialized to his left, prompt as usual. "Yes, Harper?"

"Do me a favor and tell Dylan I'll be back in a little while. I just… needed a break."

"All right," Andromeda replied. "Will there be anything else?"

"Nope."

Harper watched the ship's image vanish. He hoped Dylan and the others weren't too angry with him for leaving. He supposed he could tell them he was still feeling sick and then just the thought of being infected again sent him over the edge.

But… that would have never happened to Dylan. He would have gotten over it and been able to continue on with what needed to be done. The High Guard wouldn't be paralyzed by an irrational fear like this.

But he was Seamus Harper. Pathetic as usual. What had an Uber once said to him? _"You humans are nothing but animals. When you should fight… you run. That is what makes your race weak. That is why we own your planet. That is why you are merely our playthings, boy."_

Years later he killed the Nietzschean that had said it. Shot him in the back in some alley as the uber stumbled drunkly away from a nearby bar. The Niet had killed one of Harper's friends, simply for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Even though Seamus had gotten his revenge at the time, he was still a coward. He had been unable to look the Nietzschean in the face as he took his life. He'd been too scared to. He had been too pathetic to take on the other in his normal, healthy state, so he'd resorted to taking the easy way out.

Just another example of his limitations. He'd been too weak to fight Machello's bugs and now he couldn't come up with something to stop them. He was almost too scared to go back into that room and look at the creatures that had given him so many new nightmares.

If Beka and Tyr weren't factors in it all… he might never go back. He knew he had to try, for them if nothing else. If he failed he would just deal with those consequences later.

On his hands and knees, Harper crawled towards the exit.

* * *

Trance was on her way to see Rommie and Beka when she suddenly stopped before one of the maintenance shafts. As her forward momentum came to a halt the entrance to the shaft opened and someone poked his head out.

"Harper," she acknowledged.

The startled Earthling tried to straighten up and bumped his head on the frame of the entrance.

"Tra-oww!" he squeaked as his skull made contact with the hard metal.

"Oh, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Trance apologized again and again. She took one of his arms to gently help him out.

The engineer mumbled something under this breath and rubbed his head. "Oh… it's okay. Ma always said I had a hard head." He smiled a bit lopsidedly. "Well, fancy meeting you here, Little Lady."

She smiled a bit at his humor. It had been rare as of late. "I was just on my way to see how Beka and Rommie were feeling. I'm afraid there isn't much more I can do for Tyr at the moment."

Harper jammed his hands into his pockets. "You know I wouldn't usually ask you to use your abilities, besides that time I wanted lotto numbers of course, but couldn't you this time? I mean, can't you see something in one future or another that can help Tyr and everyone else?"

Trance sighed. "I wish I could say I have all the answers, Harper. Unfortunately, even my vision becomes cloudy in moments of desolation. Everything I'm seeing for them is so hazy. When you were ill I knew you were in danger, but I didn't know from what until you…"

"Went nuts?"

"…you…"

"Lost it?"

"…no… until you.."

"Waved goodbye to the ship of sanity?"

"Harper!" Trance scolded. "Until you become mentally unstable. I can't even begin to describe what I saw your future to be. Beka is like that now, and Tyr… I know there are good and bad futures for Tyr. That is all. Regrettably, I see just images and no remedy to get us to the good."

"So, the solution isn't just in your subconscious somewhere, waiting to come out?"

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way," Trance answered.

Harper shrugged. "I supposed it's too bad we couldn't trick some of your kind into helping us out. Maybe some of their alternate future antennas are working better than yours."

Trance smiled. "No, that isn't going to do any good calling them, Harper. And we don't have… antennas."

"Too bad," Harper said, raising up onto his toes a moment and falling back onto flat feet. "If you did I bet you guys would get THSN."

"THSN?"

"The Hoverboard Sports Network."

"Ahhhh," Trance drawled. "THSN."

"I can't believe you didn't see that coming, Trance." A small smile crept into the corner of Harper's mouth and Trance was glad to see it. She had missed it greatly. "Well," he interrupted her thoughts, "we better get back to the others. Come..."

Harper's smiled disappeared and was replaced with a look of contemplation. The face he made when an idea for some new project came to him.

"What is it?" Trance asked.

"What did I say before?"

"You were talking about the THSN."

"No," Harper prompted, still in thought, "before that. What did I say?"

Trace narrowed her eyes at him. "Well, you said it was too bad we couldn't trick some of my kind into helping us. You asked if their alternate futures antennas might be working better than mine. I then told you that calling them wouldn't do any good… and that we didn't have antennas."

Harper's eyes widened a bit. "That's it."

"What's it?" she asked in bewilderment. There were very few things that could confuse her, and Seamus Harper was definitely one of them.

"A trick! That could be our answer, Trance!" Harper exclaimed. His brain seemed to be moving a mile a minute.

Trance shook her head and clasped her hands over his shoulders to keep him still and focused on her. "Answer to _what_?" she insisted.

Harper took a deep breath, let it out slowly and then grinned. "Our answer to helping Beka and Tyr."


	11. A journey of a thousand miles

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 11**

"A journey of a thousand miles beings with a single step."

_-Lao-tzu_

* * *

"As we all know, Tyr is dying because he was infected by one of Machello's creatures. What's the difference between him and the Limvris? Anyone? You, the tall one in the front row."

Dylan crossed his arms. "I'm not following you, Harper."

Harper raised a finger. "He's not dead."

"Obviously," Dylan conceded.

"Why?"

Hunt narrowed his eyebrows in thought. "Stronger resistance to the creatures?"

"Different pride?" Trance offered.

"Ah hah! Now we're getting somewhere. Sorry, Dylan, but I'm going with Trance's answer. Tyr is dying, yes, but he'd going a lot slower than our other Niet friends probably did. I've been thinking about it though and it doesn't make any sense. If you're going to kill someone in this manner, why give them time to gradually get ill and leave the option open for someone to find a remedy before they kick the bucket? Machello hated the Nietzscheans, but I can't see him making them suffer just for the pleasure of it if he knew there was any possibility of his creatures being stopped. He'd want it to be fast and deadly, killing them within minutes of their infection. That's how any good assassination works."

He began to pace, his exhilaration swirling higher and higher.

"So I started thinking about why Machello's bugs haven't succeeded in killing Tyr and something occurred to me. What if he had his creatures, devices, whatever the hell they are, programmed to inflict damage on certain _prides_? All Nietzscheans are genetically similar, like humans, but each pride have different genes and protein markers in their DNA to separate one group from another. These little bugs were probably designed for Lynx DNA. The creatures find this certain trait, and boom… they get to killing."

Harper walked around Dylan and Trance, their eyes glued to him. "But Tyr, as he loves so often to tell us, is Kodiak. His DNA is a little different. The creatures are still reeking havoc on his system, but they are having to adapt to his different genetics and it's taking longer."

"How does this help us?" Dylan asked, intrigued but skeptical.

"Here's the complicated part," Harper explained. "We need to somehow trick the creatures, and this is where you come in Trance."

"Me?" she asked curiously.

"I need your medical knowledge to pull this off. Remember Rommie's method of removing the creature? What if we used a similar technique, just minus the ice pick."

He smiled over at the still imprisoned Rommie. The android shrugged silently.

"What if we can manufacture something… I don't know, possibly nanobots… with Lynx DNA," Harper continued. "We inject them into Beka and Tyr, tricking Machello's devices. They come to it like moths to flame and when they get to the opening, we, metaphorically speaking, stick an ice pick in them."

"Let me get this straight," Dylan replied. "We create something with Limvris DNA to inject into Beka and Tyr. The creatures are attracted to the DNA and we remove it through some kind of… open wound?"

"Something like that."

"Trance, can that be done?" Dylan asked curiously.

"Well," the alien began, "DNA is made up of chromosomes found in the nucleus of all of the body's cells, except red blood cells and platelets. Frequently, DNA samples are taken from blood. The white blood cells in these samples are usually where it's obtained."

Harper ran a hand over his chin. "Could we synthesize some kind of white blood cell with Lynx DNA?"

"It would take time to grow one, but we might be able to," Trance answered. "The Andromeda isn't equipped with the appropriate technology for such activities though."

"Would Sinti have the proper facilities?" Hunt asked.

She paused, but soon her eyes lit up. "Most definitely," she answered. Trance looked over at Harper in what he could only describe as surprised awe. "This… this might work, Harper."

Seamus smiled reluctantly. "_Might _being the keyword," he said, mirroring Dylan's earlier remarks. "Boss, we need to get cracking as soon as possible. We should call H'toh for the Limvris DNA."

Dylan nodded, moving towards the door. "I'll contact him about the samples. Luckily we haven't moved far from the Kabelan system."

Hunt disappeared into the corridor and the entryway sealed behind him. Harper felt his heart speed up. This could be it. This could be their answer.

He looked over towards Rommie. The avatar was still standing near the force field but Beka had moved away. She now sat with her back to one of the equipment drawers, knees drawn up.

"Did you hear, Bek?" he asked, really noticing her for the first time since he'd come back into the lab. He'd been so excited earlier about his proposal that he'd just starting talking. Now that he was actually paying attention he saw that she was slightly shaking and even from behind the force field he could see the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. It was starting.

"Beka?" he tried again, hoping to catch her attention. Rommie and Trance were also now aware of the blonde woman's sudden change.

"It's too hot," Valentine murmured to herself. She began to pull on her clothing and her voice became louder. "It's too hot. They're… they're trying to suffocate me!"

Rommie, being the only one able to, moved towards the _Maru's _captain slowly. "Beka?" she called gently.

Valentine looked up at the approaching figure and her eyes widened. "Stay away from me! You're… you're one of them!"

"No, it's me, it's Rommie," the android soothed. "Look at me Beka, I'm you're friend."

"NO!" Valentine screamed as she slid along the side of the drawer to distance herself. "You're… you're… dead… you're…" She wrapped her arms around herself and tucked her chin into her chest. "Stay away, stay away, stay away…" she babbled.

Rommie backed away, giving her friend the space she seemed to want. She glanced up at Harper and Trance but neither could do anything but stare in dismay.

Finally Harper had to turn away from his friend, unable to face what he was seeing any longer. He crossed his arms tightly across his chest. They were slowly losing Beka and it was like a knife to the heart to watch. He knew from personal experience what his friend's waking nightmares would soon contain. Knew all too damn vividly.

"Hurry Dylan," he whispered. "Hurry."

* * *

Dorran councilman H'toh was more than eager to help his new friends upon hearing about the _Andromeda's _predicament. Fortunately, even though the Limvris bodies had been already cremated, samples of their hair and skin tissue had been saved for later analysis.

H'toh himself greeted the _Maru _as it landed on Dorran. The only passenger aboard the salvage ship was Seamus Harper and the engineer came bounding out into the falling snow to meet the Dorran councilman, eager to get back to _Andromeda _and then on to Sinti.

"Hey, H'toh, how are you?" Harper asked, extending a hand.

The other man seemed unsure of what do to with the appendage being offered to him, but mimicked Harper's moment and the two clasped hands briefly.

"I am very well Mr. Harper," H'toh replied. "I was told by Captain Hunt that you had recently been sick. I do hope you are getting better."

Harper shrugged. "Yeah, I'm okay, it's just Beka and Tyr we're worried about now."

"Ahh," H'tho murmered, "Tyr is the Nietzschean aboard your ship, yes?"

Harper knew from experience how people, especially those like the Dorrans, felt about Nietzscheans. Enslaved worlds never took kindly to any of them, no matter the pride. It had been hard to accept working with a Niet at first, but over time Tyr had grown on him. Sometimes as a friend, or sometimes like a bad disease, and the feeling was mutual. He wouldn't trade the Kodiak for anything and he had the distant feeling that Tyr wouldn't either, not that he would admit that to anyone.

"Tyr's a friend," Harper said. "And an Uber. Two words I thought I'd never say after growing up on Earth. He's cool though. Saved my life countless times and vice versa. He's big and sometimes a little menacing, but really, just a soft, cuddly teddy bear at heart."

"If you say your friend is good," H'toh offered, "than I shall take your word. Perhaps not all Nietzscheans are like the Limvris." The councilman reached into his robes and produced a small wrapped package. "Here are the samples your captain requested. I hope they can be of use to your friends."

Harper nodded. "I hope so too. Thanks." He turned back towards the _Maru _and ascended the ramp.

"Mr. Harper?" H'toh called as the engineer was about to enter the ship. "I meant to ask, and forgive me if this is ignorant on my part, but why are you wearing dark eye protection? It is night and there is no sun. Is it some Earth ritual?"

Harper grinned and pulled his sunglasses off, holding them up by the earpiece. "Ah, no," he answered. "The last time I was here I had a run in with a little bastard snowflake. Thing nearly took my eye."

H'toh tilted his head in puzzlement as Harper smiled and turned away, boarding the ship and closing the bay door behind him.

Moments later the Maru was soaring over the Dorran mountains and up into the atmosphere, heading back to the _Andromeda Ascendant_.

* * *

When Harper was young, maybe five or six, his parents had taken him on a boat ride down from Boston Harbor to a small town along the bay, charmingly called Oceanview. They'd been going to visit a great aunt Seamus had never met, and to this day, he still couldn't really remember her name. Ruth he thought, but he wasn't for sure. She'd kinda had a little beard if he was remembering it right, and when she'd kissed him it had felt… itchy.

However, even that wasn't the worst part of the trip. It was the journey itself. The boat ride hadn't taken terribly long, but to little Harper, it was the never-ending voyage. He had felt like he'd been stuck on that boat for days, when in fact it had probably been only two or three hours at most. He remembered whining, a lot, and he also remembered his mother yelling at him for being obnoxious. Today he still recalled that trip, if only for the unending hours stuck aboard a rusty ship that smelled like dead fish and cigars.

The _Andromeda's _journey to Sinti was starting to feel like that trip. Logically his brain told him they'd be there in two hours, tops, but the other part of him just wanted to run up to Dylan begging to know, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" Harper was an adult now, but the urge to do just that was stronger than ever. At least the _Andromeda _didn't smell like fish. And its captain wasn't a creepy guy with an eye patch and three teeth.

Unintentionally, Harper giggled at the thought of Dylan in an eye patch, smiling toothlessly up at him. At least with that look the man's uncanny ability to snag a girl on every planet might go down.

"What do you think Beka?" he asked, glancing over at his friend who now lay across from him separated by the force field.

He'd been telling his boat story to Beka because he'd had nothing else to do while the _Andromeda _raced towards the Perseid hospital. Trance was off in Med Deck getting some data together about the possible solution and he knew he couldn't really contribute to any of that at the moment. He could sit with his friend though, even if she didn't seem aware of his presence.

Rommie was still locked away with Beka, but the android had found a free console and disappeared into _Andromeda's _matrix for the time, probably talking to her sister about hair, or boyfriends, or maybe the newest proton missiles on the market. Whatever sexy warships actually talked about he'd never be sure.

Beka seemed indifferent to his ramblings, too caught up in her own mind to realize what was going on. He recalled the feeling all to well.

"So I guess my boat story was kinda boring," Harper went on, not sure what else to talk about. "I only have a handful of normal childhood memories that don't contain death or blood or all those other lovely bits of gore. Did I ever tell you about my dog Maggie? I got her when I was ten. She was this lab mix, chocolate brown with the biggest eyes I'd ever seen. I used to throw balls for her in the fields near my house."

Harper paused, realizing this wasn't one of those aforesaid normal memories. Maggie had died when he was eleven, accidentally trotting into a newly planted mine field by his neighborhood. It had not been pretty.

"Um…" He coughed to clear his throat. "Maybe now's not the time for that story. So… Hey! Remember the time we scammed those thugs on Hegar? That was frickin' brilliant."

The memories of Beka and his many infamous adventures with her were easy to fall back into. The Hegar con had been one of the first things he and Beka had done together after she'd rescued him from Earth. Rev had been off on some retreat, Vex had gone visiting an old girlfriend on Pelx-3, and Beka had decided to take the newly-christened _Maru _engineer to the Hegar System for a little gambling and booze drinking vacation.

They'd only been at the main port a day when they ran into a pair of drunk mafia thugs who had told them, in complete confidence, that they were getting an entire shipment of Ems crystals from a job they had pulled two systems over. A cargo transport would be landing with the packed crystals and deliver them to their own ship, and because they would soon be rich, the thugs were looking to spend some money.

It had only taken Beka and her new cohort a few moments to come up with a scam to get the crystals. After all, stealing from thieves in order to get some vitally needed cash wasn't hurting anyone.

While Beka had distracted the three thugs with a high priced, high paced game of cards, Harper had hacked his way into the docking station's mainframe. With some quick finger work and a little help from his port, the destination of the cargo transport's delivery was moved to the ship in port 4M-52. Twenty minutes later the transport was delivering its load without a hitch, no one aware that anything had been tampered with.

Five minutes after the shipment, Beka Valentine casually walked back to her ship, and within another ten, had taken the _Maru _out of the Hegar system and disappeared, never to be heard of again by four luckless goons. Because of Harper's fast work on the mainframe, no ship, especially not one named _The Eureka Maru_, had ever been parked in port 4M-52, giving the thugs nothing to go on but the intoxicated memory of a redheaded woman and the pale boy who trailed behind her.

"I would have loved to see their faces," Harper continued. "I bet they were pissed. We got 5,000 thrones from that haul. I know most of it went to fixing the _Maru_, but we got a nice meal and a case of liquor out of it, didn't we? I don't think I'd ever been so drunk in my life."

He smiled to himself and massaged the back of his neck. "Rev was less than pleased of course as you probably remember. His lecture about 'thou shalt not steal' was pretty funny. And Vex was just ticked he missed out on the action. I liked those years, Beka. You taught me a lot."

He glanced across the force field to see that Valentine's mumblings had stopped. She now lay on her side, curled up in a kind of semi-fetal position with her arms wrapped around her knees. Beka looked better than she had before, and Harper figured that a part of her had been calmed by his story. The memories of their escapades had given her something to focus on, blocking the nightmares for just a few moments.

"Beka," he called gently, sitting forward a bit, "if you can hear me, I just wanted to say that we have an idea. As soon as we can we'll get those things out of you and Tyr, I promise."

Harper wasn't sure if anything he was saying was getting through to her. Maybe he'd just been imagining seeing a change earlier and it was just his mind hoping for the best. "Beka?" he tried once more.

Painstakingly slow, Beka's head moved in his direction, and for an instant her eyes met his. There was clarity in that gaze and Harper grinned like an idiot when he realized he was looking at his friend.

But to his disappointment, the lucidity didn't last long. In the blink of an eye Beka was once again curling up tighter into herself, her body already beginning to tremble.

Not really sure of what to do, Harper decided to settle back for the rest of the ride and keep talking. If his stories helped her, well, he was more than happy to oblige.

"So Beka… you remember that run on Ran'du Drift?"


	12. Knowledge is essential to conquest

* * *

Chapter 12

_"Knowledge is essential to conquest;  
only_ _according to our ignorance are we helpless."  
-Anne Besant_

* * *

Doctor Giva Keenan had been enjoying a late lunch of kaya greens and fruit in the hospital's main commissary when he accidentally overheard two of his colleagues discussing the _Andromeda Ascendant_. Keenan did not recognize one of the doctors, but the other was the hospital's Chief of Surgery, a Perseid whom he had previously met only a handful of times since his initial appointment as Chief.

"Pardon me," Keenan interrupted the pair behind him, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible, "but did you just mention the _Andromeda Ascendant_?"

All nourishment, no matter how good, found itself quickly forgotten as he learned from the conversation that the High Guard warship had returned to Sinti seeking medical assistance of some kind.

Guilt pervaded Keenan's senses. It had to be the human, Seamus Harper.

The physician's mind had told him to the earthling was too ill to be released, but Mr. Harper's friend's words had been pleading, begging him to consider the possibility that the changes in the engineer were permanent. Obviously Keenan's leap of faith in the situation had been futile.

Quickly disposing of his leftover meal, Keenan headed to the nearest information console. According to the records he pulled up, the _Andromeda _had docked at Sinti twenty minutes ago. The station provided him with no more details save for the name of a doctor the ship had made an appointment with: Cai Re'Ville, Head of Sinti's Genetic Engineering Program.

Unsure of why the ship had contacted Doctor Re'Ville, but curious nonetheless, Keenan proceeded across the facility to the GE labs. Showing his credentials to access the area, Keenan asked the nearest desk attendant if he knew were the ship's crew were located. The attendant pointed him to an empty conference room down the hall. Giving his thanks, Keenan walked towards the room.

Stopping before the glass door, he peered in, taking note of the recognizable faces. Captain Hunt and the golden alien, Trance Gemini, were the only two he remembered. The boy was nowhere in sight, confirming his suspicions. Perhaps he had been brought back to Psychiatric Care or was still on the _Andromeda _awaiting help.

It was a shame really. Keenan had truly hoped the young human would overcome his illness.

"Dr. Keenan?"

The oddly familiar voice came from behind him and Keenan turned quickly, his lab coat tangling around his legs as he moved. His eyes settled on the speaker and his mouth parted in surprise.

"Mr. Harper?"

"Hey, Doc," the earthling smiled. "Bet you didn't expect to see me back here."

The doctor studied the face before him. Mr. Harper appeared lucid enough. And Keenan was sure the _Andromeda's _crew wouldn't let the boy roam if he was still ailing. "You are right, Mr. Harper, I did not expect to see you again. You are still well I hope?"

"Healthy as a horse," Harper replied. He shrugged and added, "My nana used to say it. Still don't get it, but what can I say? She was a little eccentric."

Deciding not to bother asking the boy what a horse was, Keenan instead inquired as to why he was back on Sinti. As the Perseid spoke he could see pain fill Harper's eyes.

"Our friends are sick, Doc. Beka, who you've meet, and our weapons officer, Tyr, are both suffering from the same thing I had."

Keenan's pale eyebrows raised. "Mr. Harper, schizophrenia is not a disease that can be _caught_. It is as inherited disorder."

"Well, not _this _schizophrenia," the boy tried to explain. "It's not really schizophrenia either, just similar symptoms."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

Harper signed, not in anger, but what looked like utter exhaustion. "Come on, why don't you come into the conference room with us. I'll explain everything there."

* * *

Genetic engineering had never been one of Seamus Harper's (fortes) fortés (but I'm not sure how will cope with the é so either is fine). He had read some stuff on it, knew enough about nanobots and how they were built to work on some in his own time. They took painstakingly long to create, but most were self replicating, so no more by-hand assembly required once the first batch were set loose. However, when it came down to blood and DNA and organs, he was at a loss. That was the side of genetics he left to the experts.

There were some things even self-proclaimed geniuses left alone.

Earth had never really thrived in the genetic engineering department, even in its heyday, but Harper knew older civilizations, especially those in the Commonwealth, had achieved some level of success with it. Hospitals could grow replacement organs in a matter of days, repair genetic malfunctions before birth, and even make clones of themselves. Seamus wasn't really sure he liked the idea of having a bunch of mini-Harper's running around causing universal havoc. He'd keep his DNA to himself, thank you very much.

So listening to Trance, Doctor Re'Ville and three of his toadies discuss the designs of a white blood cell composed of nanobots was about as exciting a three hour lecture on the migration of gerbils.

While the five of them prattled on about cells laced with Lynx DNA, Harper could only pace.

"We'll have to worry about blood flow," Trance said to Re'Ville, catching Harper's attention. "If we place this pseudo-cell in one of the superficial veins in her arm, it will want to move along with the rest of the cells and plasma."

"Could we put a nanobot inside the cell?" Seamus piped in. "Maybe one could be rigged to keep it stationary in the blood flow?"

Trance seemed to contemplate this. "Possibly, but you may have given me a better idea, Harper. We need to program the nanobot to attach itself to some of the epithelial cells the vein is made up of. That way is stays in place as the bloodstream is moving and also leaves it near our incision on Beka'a arm."

Dylan, who'd been calmly standing back as Trance and the doctors had discussed options, finally approached. "I have a question," he asked, slightly raising a hand to get their attention. "The creatures don't travel by veins. They're too big, correct?"

"Yes," Trance confirmed. "How they move through the body we'll never be sure, but with its size it doesn't appear to have access to the smaller veins."

"So how will it be captured if you're placing the cell in something it can't get into?"

"It can't travel in the vein, but that doesn't mean it can't get to the cell," Trance explained. "When we carefully cut down to the chosen vein in Beka's arm and inject the cell into it, our hope is that the creature will approach it when it senses the DNA. But, because it can't travel along inside the vein itself, it will need to come to the outer layer above the pseudo-cell looking for a way into the center. Before it has a chance to get past the first layer, however, we'll capture it."

Dylan crossed his arms, nodding. "That sounds… complicated."

Trance smiled slightly. "Not really, the only thing we need to make sure of it not to cause any permanent damage to Beka's arm. We'll have to cut in deeply, but I'm positive we can avoid anything that will leave irreversible harm."

Harper grimaced at the mental image of what this would actually look like when it happened.

"We'll have to be careful of the nerves," Trance continued, "but once we get Machello's devices out we can inject her arm with med nanobot which should be able to repair most of the damage we will inevitably cause. Besides, I think the Beka Valentine we all know would rather have a little nerve damage than spend the rest of her days an insane asylum."

"Amen to that," Seamus murmured quietly to himself. Trance went back into deep conversation with the doctor and Harper renewed his pacing. He hated feeling useless.

There had been so many people he'd been unable to help on Earth because there had been absolutely nothing he could do about it. His parents had been murdered and he'd been too young to do anything. His cousins had been infected with Magog and he could only stand there as they screamed in agony. Here was a situation akin to that and he was once again left to pacing around and waiting. Being useless was like--

"Harper," Trance called, "I need your help."

"Yessss!" Harper shouted, but when he realized everyone was staring at him, nervously coughed. "Um, I mean, what can I do for you Trance?"

Harper swore he could see a tiny smile curve the corner of her lips, but it was gone within seconds. Back to business as usual for Trance Gemini.

"We can't exactly use an icepick to get the creatures out of Beka," Trace explained, "but I was thinking about procuring a suction tube. They're primarily used in surgery to absorb excess blood, but I think they could also help us scoop up our little blue friends. However, once they're drawn into a receptacle attached to the tube, there's no telling if they can escape. Could you rig up some kind of force field within the container to keep them inside? The one surrounding the containment chamber aboard _Andromeda _seems to be holding the others."

"Piece of cake," Harper said. "Where can I get one of these sucker thingies to take it back to the ship?"

Re'Ville glanced up from the notes he'd been making and stroked his protruding chin. "I believe Doctor Keenan would help you, Mr. Harper. He seemed most eager to participate in any way he could. I can have him paged if you wish."

"Nah," the engineer answered with a shake of his head. "I'll just go up to his office. I can find it." He turned to Dylan. "Boss, I'm gonna get the suckie thing from the Doc and go back to _Andromeda_. You know where to find me if you need me."

Hunt nodded. "I'll right, Mr. Harper. I'll stay in touch."

Hands still firmly planted in his pockets, Harper strode from the conference room in search of Doctor Keenan's office. Right now he only knew he was in the Genetics Wing and that Keenan's office would be in the Psychiatric Wing.

He had gotten the gist of the hospital when he'd been leaving with Beka, and from what he could remember, the building was kinda shaped like a giant wheel spoke. At least seven different wings branched off from the center, and each of the wings, as well the hub in the middle, were five stories high.

When he exited the GE lab, Harper found the nearest information console and pulled up a full map of the hospital. His eyes scanned the different wings, widening as he read. He had thought each of the building branches were just separate wings, but apparently some of them had several departments in one branch.

Harper read them through them, not realizing he was muttering to himself. "Genetics Wing, Research and Development Wing, Surgery Wing, Obstetrics Wing, Trauma Wing, Chicken Wing… ah hah! Psychiatric Wing."

Once he knew the general direction of where he was going, Harper did a second search for Doctor Keenan's office number. After a few moments of typing he paused, mentally jotting down the information that appeared on screen. _Psychiatric Wing west, third floor, room 330A._

Harper stepped away from the console, the directions firmly planted in his head. He caught the nearest transport lift and squeezed in with five other Perseid of various sizes. He smiled cheekily at one of the doctors who glanced down at him with a quizzical look on his gray face. The ride was thankfully short, and when the lift stopped on the third floor, Harper made his exodus from the mass of beings.

The nearest door was 301B and they seemed to rise as he turned to his right, so right it was. He strolled the plain halls toward Keenan's office, glancing occasionally in any open doors. Like the halls, the Perseid offices were bare and boring. Three chairs, a desk, and the occasional plaque on the wall. All of which were a remarkable shade of white.

A Perseid nurse exited one of the doors ahead of Harper, his hands carefully guiding a patient out into the hall. The patient was a Chichin who came up to Harper's neck in height and whose body was wrapped tightly in a white suit that restricted arm movement. The nurse prodded the babbling Chichin forward and led it gently down the hall towards Harper.

Seamus stopped as the pair moved past him, his eyes locked on the creature as it continued to jabber on about something he couldn't understand. Had that been him a few days ago? Had others seen him and shook their heads in pity at the poor, prattling human? He didn't remember anything outside of his padded room during his infection, but there was no telling how many others had witnessed his madness. His friends had seen him like that, babbling and incoherent, sobbing until his chest hurt. Everything had felt so real. The Nietzscheans had been coming for him and every fiber of his body was terrified. One tiny mechanical creature had reduced him to a bawling idiot.

His mind pictured Beka, worse than she was now, trapped in that restricted jacket and being lead around like a dog on a leash. The appalling image was enough to snap his thoughts into order and force his legs to work again, pulling him closer and closer to Keenan's office. As soon as he talked to the Doc and got out of here the better.

The room numbers began to increase and he quickened his pace. 311B. 315A. 319A. 325B. 228B. Keenan's office had to be around the next corner. Thank the Devine.

Moment's later, just as Harper's eyes caught site of room 330A maybe ten or eleven ten feet from his current position, everything stopped. His forward motion was completely halted as a rough hand grabbed him by the shoulder and yanked him backwards.

All the hairs on his neck rose in trepidation and his breath stalled. In the next second he found himself being physically tossed into a open doorway and he hit the ground with enough force to jar all the bones in his arm as he tried to catch himself. His left wrist throbbed anew.

Harper rolled onto his side, trying to suck air into his stunned lungs and figure out what the hell was going on.

"Hello there, little human."

The engineer's eyes closed in repulsion. _Oh God…_


	13. To conquer fear

* * *

Chapter 13

"Fear is the main source of superstition, and one of the main sources of cruelty. To conquer fear is the beginning of wisdom."  
-Bertrand Russell

* * *

Something deep inside Harper's body commanded him to stand. It could have been his will to live, survival training kicking in, or perhaps that wonderful thing people dubbed your fight or flight instinct. But no amount of internal willpower was going to get him up and about he realized with a sudden nauseating dread.

The shock of what was happening to him had finally begun to wear and Seamus Harper found himself lying on a plain storeroom floor, pinned in that freakin'-stuck-can't-move-your-arms-or-legs-for-that-matter kind of way. Things were not looking up. Metaphorically speaking.

Harper groaned unexpectedly as his left cheek was smashed painfully into the white tile floor and a thick knee dug into his lower back. Yep, completely immobile. His re-injured wrist hurt like hell too, but it could be worse. Broken wrists, now those were a bugger. Bone mashing against bone, the feeling of your own hand literally snapping under your skin. No, a strained wrist was child's play. He'd take one any day over the alternative.

Not that in his situation the sprain was better than it being broken. He wasn't going to be using it anytime soon.

Harper didn't have the energy to fight back. It was just easier to accept the fact that he was restrained on the floor by two laughing idiots above him. Fighting back only meant more pain. Saying something only brought more agony. Maybe they'd get their sadistic kicks out of it and just leave him alone. Maybe.

Cliché Uno was the one currently holding him down. Dos, who appeared to be the more passive one of the pair, was standing near the door's window probably keeping an eye out. Uno was running his mouth off about humans and how stupid they were. Sometime to the effect of, "Humans blah blah weak yadda yadda me got big brain blah blah."

Harper wasn't paying attention to any of that. He managed to just keep his eyes shut and his mind automatically seemed to block out what the large Perseid was saying. He'd had years of practice for this on Earth. It was better this way. He was too weak to fight back. Too scared, too pathetic. It was no use. Maybe he deserved this? Maybe this was punishment for everything wrong he'd ever done? Maybe--

"Do you really believe that, Little Human?"

Harper's eyes opened and moved towards the familiar voice. Not the voice of Uno or Dos.

"You're not real," Harper murmured. He could still feel Uno's knee pushing into him but the aide's voice seemed far away. Muffled almost.

"Maybe, but this is _your _mind after all," the figure said, settling himself into a crouch next to Harper on the right side. "I asked you a question."

The engineer could only blink in protest. "You're not real," he repeated.

The tall Nietzschean glared at him disapprovingly. "Yes, Harper, you've said that twice now. My hearing is fine. No, I _am not _real. I'm a fabrication of your mind. Something you've conjured up."

"I'm going nuts again, aren't I?" Harper whispered half to himself, half to the specter.

"Professor, you were always nuts. But fortunately for you this time, not Machello-nuts."

"So I'm not crazy and you're just in my head? What? They can't see or hear you, only me?"

"Yes, Harper," Tyr answered, "they can't see me. I'm a figment of your imagination, remember? Your conscious disguised as Tyr Anasazi. "

"Why are you here?"

"I'm here because you're acting like a fool."

"Well thanks," Harper drawled. Above him Uno continued to shout but the Persied didn't seem to notice their Niet visitor or Seamus talking to himself.

"Do you really believe you're pathetic? That you deserve this?" Anasazi asked. "Because if you do, then you're not the annoying human I once knew."

"Just shut up okay!" Harper mumbled. "You're dying, Tyr, you've got bigger things to worry about than me feeling…"

"Sorry for yourself?"

Harper glared at the apparition. "I said shut up, Tyr, or else."

The Kodiak laughed deeply. "What are you going to do? Lie there some more? I'm terrified, Professor."

"What do you want Tyr?" Harper demanded, his throat contacting. He wouldn't cry in front of the Uber, even if he wasn't real.

"I want you to control your fear, Harper. I want you get yourself out of this situation and finish what you came to Sinti for. Beka needs you, Harper."

"I want to help," the engineer choked out. "I can't stand seeing her like that but… I just… I don't know what to do. Look at these guys. The have your freakin' pecks, Tyr."

"Harper, do you remember when the Magog attacked _Andromeda_?"

"Vividly," the earthling mumbled.

"Do you recall what I said when I found you?"

Harper grinned slightly at the memory. "Yeah, something along the lines of, 'You're an annoying little man, but there's fire in your blood.'"

Tyr nodded. "Use it then."

"Excuse me?"

"The fire, Harper. Use it."

"I-I can't…"

"You know how to fight Harper. I spent weeks showing you proper defense techniques last year. You grew up on Earth fighting for your life every day. _They _are bigger, yes, but _you _are faster. Use what you know, Human. Fight dirty," Tyr commanded aggressively.

Harper nodded slowly, or as best as he could with his face squished to the floor. Tyr smiled and began to stand.

"Tyr!"

Anasazi dropped back into his crouch for a moment.

"Earlier, when you said Beka needed me. What about you?" Harper asked. "You kind of need me too, don't you?"

"I wouldn't go that far, boy," the apparition retorted.

Harper laughed, closing his eyes unconsciously as he did so. When he opened them, however, Tyr was gone and Uno's voice rang clearly in his ears once again. Harper looked around for his friend but the Nietzschean was nowhere to be seen.

Huh.

Seamus wasn't sure what had just happened. Had he just dreamed the entire conversation? Were his eyes playing tricks on him? He closed them tightly in thought. Maybe somethings just couldn't be explained. For now, he'd just call it a dream caused by Uno knocking him out. That sounded plausible.

Harper bit his lip as the offending knee pushed on a sensitive muscle near his spine. No matter if Tyr had actually been there the strong words had rung true. Seamus didn't doubt that the real Tyr he would have said the exact same thing, perhaps a bit harsher even, and then smacked him into shape. He would have to thank Tyr when he was better, and though he was sure that the Nietzschean would give him a strange look, the engineer didn't care.

He was ready to take care of the Cliché siblings once and for all. They didn't have the luxury of an overmedicated and exhausted human to deal with this time.

No, now they had a royally pissed off one.

* * *

Beka Valentine was having a nightmare. What it was about, Rommie could only ponder. She would probably never know and was sure that when this was over and done with, the blonde pilot would ever reveal her secrets.

Rommie crossed her arms, leaning against one of the empty counter tops.

The human in question was currently curled up on her side against one of the back lap walls. She hadn't moved much, except to escape some phantom Rommie's optical sensors couldn't see. Phantoms that only existed in the veteran pilot's mind.

Rommie had found a fire blanket in one of the numerous drawers in the lab and covered her friend with it. There wasn't much more comfort she could give Beka. Dylan had allowed a small amount of food to be brought into their impromptu cell and she had tried to get the ill woman to eat. A few bites had been taken before Beka relapsed into another hysterical fit. The avatar was glad for her mechanical strength in moments like that. She feared even Dylan would have had his hands full when dealing with the struggling woman.

Rommie uncrossed her arms and sighed a bit, though not out of exhaustion. It just seemed like the thing to do in this type of situation. This entire affair bothered the avatar more than she cared to admit. Androids weren't programmed to worry about illness or disease, death or life beyond their preprogrammed schedule.

Like her kin, Rommie didn't ponder on these things. At least often anyway. But insanity, however, abysmal insanity, was always in the back of her mind. Seeing her human counterparts going through this madness only brought back memories of the terrible day after she had taken Gabriel's life.

Thanks to Harper's brilliant programming, the avatar remembered all to vividly breaking down in Dylan's arms. She had confessed her feelings on the issue to her captain and no one else on that day. The room had been in privacy mode and she had even blocked her emotions from _Andromeda _herself. The words of their long ago conversation played inside Rommie's head like one of Beka's compact disks on repeat.

I'm a warship, and warships only know how to do one thing, and that's kill. We don't have hearts. We don't have empathy. We're killers. We're attack dogs. And I'm afraid. The Balance of Judgment went insane, the Pax Magellanic went insane, and I don't want that to happen to me.

She remembered Dylan gazing at her, compassion filling his eyes and voice. It was one of the first times he had ever looked at her, really just… looked. It was as if his eyes had finally ventured beyond the wiring and gadgets to just see her and not some walking, talking machine.

You're forgetting something. The Balance of Judgment had no captain, no crew. The Pax lost her captain. Why do you think warships have captains in the first place? I'm your heart, Rommie. I always will be.

Those words had comforted her and they still clung to her. She wanted more than anything to give Beka the same feeling now. She wished that she could have calmed Harper when he had been locked away on Sinti, sobbing before them like a helpless child. As much as she desired to say something to him a week ago in that room, words had failed her. Staring at her maker, engineer and friend, confined inside that tiny padded prison had been unbearably hard. But like the good stoic robot she was, Rommie hid her feelings.

And while most androids didn't dread the thought of mental illness, Rommie did. They weren't supposed to fret about being locked away in some dark place because they had lost their mind and couldn't function. This she did fear above all others things. Insanity would be her forever, inescapable hell.

A familiar voice drew her from her thoughts as a small, holographic figure appeared on the counter next to her elbow. Rommie looked down at her "sister" and wondered if the ship could sense her thoughts, even though she was blocking most of them.

"We've just received word from Captain Hunt," _Andromeda _announced calmly, outwardly oblivious to the fact that the ship's First Officer was ill. "They believe they might have a way to utilize Harper's plan."

"That's good news," Rommie replied, a small smile appearing on her face.

"Harper will be returning soon to work on a container to hold Machello's devices. After that it is only a matter of putting the nanobots into Beka and removing the creatures."

"You're not really concerned about any of this, are you?" the android observed quietly.

The hologram mirrored her avatar's pose by crossing her tiny arms. "Why would I be?"

Rommie looked down at Beka. "I don't know. Our friends have been sick and you just seem so… indifferent about it all."

"I have many crewmen," _Andromeda _replied evenly, "I cannot be over emotional every time one of the them is ill. I would not be able to function."

"One of the _ordinary _crew? Is that all they are?" Rommie demanded, not quite angry but definitely frustrated. "This is Beka, Tyr, and Harper we're talking about! Those that helped pull us out of a black hole. Those who have protected us from danger these past three years. Seamus Harper alone is the best engineer to ever set foot on our deck plating! They aren't just a _regular _crew."

Andromeda turned away from Rommie, her near transparent shoulders suddenly stiff. "I know that."

Rommie's eyes narrowed. "You're afraid."

The hologram spun back quickly, eyes abnormally wide. "What?"

"Afraid."

Now _Andromeda _raised a thin eyebrow. "Of what exactly?"

"Insanity," Rommie offered. "You're just as terrified as I am."

"I'm a warship," _Andromeda _abrasively reminded her. "I'm not programmed to be afraid of anything."

"I'm well aware of the adage," Rommie murmured. "Never mind. Just… keep me informed of updates please." She looked back down at the sleeping human and stood in silence a moment, hoping her other half would take the hint. Just when she was sure _Andromeda _had disappeared, a quite voice spoke next to her, the words barely audible to human ears.

"I refuse to become like Pax. It is something I will not accept, and something I will waste no valuable time dwelling on. You should do the same."

Rommie looked down, but the hologram had vanished. The avatar smiled slightly.

Whoever had said androids and warships didn't fear illness or disease, death or life beyond their preprogrammed schedule, had obviously never been aboard the _Andromeda Ascendant_.

* * *

Harper's first goal was to get Uno off of him. The only way he could do that was play into the Perseid's delusion of grandeur act he had going on. First Harper relaxed his body, mimicking as if he was unconscious or nearly so. When he finally spoke, his voice was cowed and broken.

"Please," Harper begged, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…" He threw in some water works and sniffling for effect. "I'm sorry I fought back, I shouldn't have done it… I'm sorry, please…"

As he had hoped, Uno's knee was removed. With a laugh above him, Harper was turned over. He now lay on his back staring up at the massive Perseid who was haloed by the intense overhead lighting. Ironically enough, this image reminded Seamus of his first meeting with Dylan.

Though if Hunt was a Greek god, Uno must have been some kind of Gorgon. If they'd had brothers of course.

"See, we knew you could be reasonable, little human." Uno smiled, showing two rows of even gray teeth. "Now, tell me about the human race."

Harper swallowed dramatically and tried to not laugh as he said, "Humans are the lowest of the low, sir. We're the scum of the galaxy and deserve everything we get. We shouldn't even be born. I don't deserve to walk your hallowed ground." Okay, so that was laying it on a bit thick, Harper thought, but then again, thick seemed to be the perfect adjective for Uno and Dos.

Harper sat upright a bit, resting on two elbows. Uno still stood above him, but the aide's eyes were on Dos as the two meatheads chuckled at the human's statements. Well, now or never as the saying went.

Harper kicked out, his booted right foot connecting solidly with Uno's knee. The result was a sickeningly sweet crunch that caused the Persied's leg to give, making him crumble to ground in pain. As Uno lay nursing his wounded patella, Cliché Dos decided to get into the action. His dive at Harper would have easily tackled the small human standing before him. If that is, the human hadn't ducked below the reaching gray arms and side stepped to the right.

Seamus watched with satisfaction as Dos landed across his partner in a sprawled heap. A scream arose from Uno who now, besides holding an injured (if not broken) kneecap, and had two hundred pounds of Perseid laying atop him.

"Sorry," Harper yelled behind him as he made for the door, "but this scum of the galaxy has gotta blaze."

He reached the doorframe but stumbled, his boots skidding a bit on the well polished flooring. '_Damnit_!' he thought as his arms reached out to catch his fall and he found himself once again flat on his stomach. This was like one of those bad horror halo-novels where the blonde girl always seemed to fall at the worst possible moment. Except now he was the blonde in question.

Harper's chest clenched as he heard the felled pair screaming at each other to get up and "get the human." It would only take them a few seconds to be back on their feet and after him so he couldn't waste any time. Ignoring his wrist he pushed up off the ground, got his boots under him and ran. Footsteps behind him pushed him to go faster. Damn they were fast!

The engineer's legs took his around a corner and he lost track of where Doctor's Keenan's office was. His racing mind couldn't remember the room number, but he knew it had to be close.

Just when he was about to give up, a figure appeared suddenly in front of him, exiting one of offices. Harper stumbled to a stop, managing just barely not bowl the Perseid over.

"Mr. Harper!" Doctor Keenan proclaimed, genuinely happy to see the earthling.

As Keenan's greeting ended, Dos and a limping Uno rounded the corner, so intent on their prey that they didn't realize their superior was before them until they stopped no more than two feet behind Harper's back.

Keenan took in the appearances of his former patient and his aides with wary eyes. "Is everything all right?" he slowly asked.

Harper glanced behind, trying not to glare. All he was concerned about was Beka and Tyr. Once they were off Sinti, he'd never had to think about Uno and Dos again. It would be better to just leave the issue alone. He could tell that the aides looked cagey at the thought of what he might say. He wanted to spill something and not let them win, but right now Harper had to pick his battles. This just wasn't one he was willing to fight if it meant his friend's lives.

"Fine, Doc," Harper finally replied, his eyes locked on Keenan's. "I just came up here for help. Your aides kindly showed me where your office was."

"Are you sure?"

Harper could tell Keenan knew something was going on, but the engineer feigned innocence. He was always good at that.

"Sure as my name's Seamus Zelazny Harper. So, Doc, can we go in your office so I can fill you in on the details? I need to get back to _Andromeda _as soon as possible."

Keenan nodded, black eyes still suspicious. "Of course, Mr. Harper. Come inside." He glanced at Uno and remarked: "You seem to be limping. You should go down to the emergency department and get that checked out."

The Perseid doctor retreated back into his office and Harper followed, eager to get out of this hospital as quickly as he could. Before entering the room, however, Seamus turned back to stare at Uno and Dos one last time. Both Perseids looked livid beyond words but knew they could do nothing more. Uno pointed a finger at him angrily, though said nothing.

Harper only smiled widely back at them, gave the pair his own special finger, and disappeared into room 330A.


	14. There is always some madness in love

* * *

**Chapter 14**

"There is always some madness in love.  
But there is also always some reason in madness."  
-Friedrick Nietzche

* * *

In the end, designing and building the apparatus Trance had asked for had been a relatively simple procedure. The container itself was a plain fiberglass storageware jar Harper found buried somewhere in his workshop that had just needed a bit of dusting and the removal of some old candy wrappers. He had jury-rigged the medical suction device, which consisted of a foot of tubing and the powerful motor that initiated its simple vacuum effect, to the fiberglass container with the ease of a kid who liked to fiddle with toy ship models.

In the core of the container was a tiny force field generator that would produce a sphere of impenetrable energy about the size of an overweight softball. The clear tubing dissected the field, but once something was sucked into the orb, the hole automatically sealed itself.

The gadget, jumbled together with a little bit of powerful melding glue and creativity, looked like the most botched medicinal device he had ever set his eyes on. However, now looking at his finished product, Harper allowed himself a small smirk as he internally christened it the _Vacuum of Doom._

"Harper," _Andromeda's _voice filled the speakers in his workshop. "Captain Hunt would like to know your progress."

"Just finishing up 'Droms. Tell him and Trance that'll I'll be right down to deliver the Vac-- uh, device, really soon."

"I'll let them know," the ship replied.

Harper tucked the new creation under his right arm for transport to the lab and used his good hand to key open the door. The left hand and wrist were nearly useless now and lay pathetically curled against his chest. He had pushed past the pain when it was necessary in order to finish the construction of _The Vacuum_, but now his adrenaline was waning and the pain receptors in his head were furious at him. As soon as this was over and his friends were okay, he'd have Trance take a look at it. She'd be pissed of course, but he wasn't really concerned about that right now.

A few minutes later he met the rest of the crew in the sealed laboratory. Aka, Beka and Rommie's temporary penal complex.

The avatar had already sedated her cellmate and moved Beka to the medbed that had been slipped past the field surrounding the room. Trance would have liked to have a more sterile environment to perform the procedure, but time was of the essence and the lab room would have to suffice. She would be the only one to enter the area but the bed was close enough to the force field barrier that both Harper and Dylan could watch the entire process.

Trance would move quickly to avoid being infected herself, but she was confident that she couldn't be contaminated. Something to do with her core temperature being too hot to sustain the creatures' systems. It was a good theory Harper thought, but like that one dude's law said, anything that can possibly go wrong on, especially on the _Andromeda_, will go wrong.

"Got your suction-thingy," Harper announced after he had entered and mentally took everything in. He placed his _Vacuum _on an empty equipment tray next to the field. "Some of my best work, if I may say so myself. Next to that thermonuclear powered hotplate of course."

Trance eyed it a bit, sure of his skills, but wary of its physical appearance. "You sure it will work?" she asked.

"Positive as a Than pregnancy test. Just press this stitch like this and the field appears."

"Good work," Trance offered with a smile.

She hadn't noticed his arm, he realized warily. Thank the Devine for small favors.

"How's Tyr doing?" Harper asked, changing the subject.

The Nietzschean, still back on Med Deck, was hooked up to more machines than the engineer could count on all his fingers combined. When he had visited earlier Harper found that Tyr's room, like Rommie and Beka's, had also been covered by a protective field that only Trance was allowed to penetrate. No matter if he was one foot or five from Tyr though, Seamus saw enough to last him a lifetime. He'd never seen the Kodiak so defenseless. Defenseless Tyr Anasazi. That had to be an oxymoron of some kind.

Trance, playing the doctor card, had insisted that they not test the pseudo-cell on him first, primarily because of his weakened condition. If this failed there was no telling how it would affect his already failing organs. So Beka Valentine had become the official guinea pig. Harper was sure she would have baulked at being referred to as an annoying rodent.

Speaking of Beka... Harper glanced over toward her prone figure. Her usually pale face and exposed arms were now flushed and beads of sweat ran along the side of her face and into her hair. Just like Tyr, she looked so weak, so utterly vulnerable. He would have given his soul in that instant just to be able to simply hold her hand. To simply tell her how much he loved her.

"We ready to go?" Dylan asked, entering the laboratory with a small case in his hands. He placed it on the tray next to Harper's gadget.

Trance nodded confidently. "Yes, we should begin."

"It's now or… now," Harper added.

"_Andromeda_," Dylan called, "open the field for Trance and seal it after her."

There was no confirmation from the ship, but as soon as the ship's physician neared the field a Trance-sized hole appeared and she stepped through carefully, pushing the equipment tray ahead of her. The barrier wasted no time in closing itself behind her.

Trance's first move was to disinfect her hands and then slip on a pair of protective, thin layered gloves. Rommie followed suite, becoming an impromptu medical assistant for the day. Once sterilized, the golden alien slid a medical cuff onto the top of Beka's arm. The cuff, which began to mechanically tighten, would act as a temporary tourniquet and slow down the blood flow to the appendage.

Next, Trance gently spread Beka's arm across one of the padded wings attached to the bed. She began to apply a sterilizing liquid across the area she would make her incision.

"Rommie, you'll need this to help remove the remaining blood," Trance said a few moments later, handing the avatar a section of tubing attached to a tall machine that stood near the bed.

The device was a larger version of the suction device he had modified, Harper realized, only this one was only responsible for capturing plasma and platelets, not glowy creatures manufactured by a loony scientist.

He watched with a mix of curiosity and disgust as Trance began the procedure, slowly cutting into the layers of skin of his friend's forearm. Thankfully there wasn't much blood, not that he couldn't take it, but it really wasn't something he wanted to see up close and personal if he didn't have to. Trance worked cautiously, peeling back the skin she had already dissected. It didn't take her long to find a superficial vein that was big enough for their purpose.

"Rommie, can you open the case and hand me the hypo?" Trance asked, eyes still on her work.

The android put down the suction tube and moved over to the equipment tray. She found the container Dylan had brought into the room and carefully clicked it open. Inside lay two hyposprays, both containing a single, Lynx DNA-laced pseudo-white blood cell.

"I'm going to inject it now," Trance announced, glancing briefly up at Harper and Dylan. Both nodded in encouragement. Looking back down at her incision, Trance placed the hypo inside the wound. It was too hard to see the tiny vein from where he was, but Harper took her word for it.

Trance pressed the thumb release on the small, pen-like device, and all of them heard its normal hiss of release.

"It should automatically attach itself the epithelial layer a few cementers from the injection point," Trance said, reaching over to equipment tray and picking up Harper's device. She flicked the activation switch and inside the jar, a spear of energy appeared and the faint whine of the vacuum could be heard.

Trance waited, her hand with the tubing poised over the wound in Valentine's arm. Everyone was hushed and Harper caught himself holding his breath. Five seconds passed and nothing appeared. He continued to silently count. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.

"Where the hell are they?" Harper finally asked, half to the others, half to himself. "This should work… it has to work…"

Dylan said nothing, but glanced down at the engineer, his eyes concerned.

More seconds passed and Harper felt his chest tighten painfully. "Oh God… nonono, this can't happen…"

"Harper," Dylan began. "Maybe we can--"

"Look!" Rommie whispered loudly, cutting her captain off and pointing directly below Beka's exposed left shoulder. Under the skin something was slowly moving toward the incision.

Once more Harper held his breath as he watched the creature… no, now there were two creatures… moving down his friend's arm. The first one appeared in the open wound, heading directly for the vein, ready to dig its way into the top of it to get to the pseudo-cell. As soon as it was in the open Trance moved the suction wand over it. Like Harper had envisioned, the small creature was pulled inside and subsequently trapped in the force field.

The second creature was making its way into the open air just as the first was being drawn in by the vacuum. Trance made quick work of it as well.

"So far, so good," she said, holding the jar up to eyelevel. Inside the two creatures squirmed, their tails furiously whipping behind them.

The resident engineer, eying the jar with well-deserved vehemence, had the quick thought of using the little buggers for sabershark fishing on Minor IV.

More seconds passed, however, and the other two interlopers did not appear. Harper felt the tug of anxiousness take hold of him once more, but Trance didn't seem too worried. Instead she handed the jar over to Rommie and took the other hypospray from the case. "Let's try the second one," she offered.

She repeated the earlier process and Harper listened intently for this hiss-release of the hypo. This had to work. They had gone through so much already. He had been so angry at Beka for leaving him on Sinti, yet now the thought of losing her to insanity was nearly unbearable. With death there was a conclusion, finality, to it all. You grieved, you ranted and raved about the injustices the galaxy, but in the end you knew that they were probably in a better place. They had to be. But to lose her to madness, alive but not, his friend but... not. That was a living death.

Thankfully his reflections didn't have time to get any darker as the last two creatures appeared. One was quickly traveling down Beka's arm while the other moved slowly around her neck and disappeared under the black shirt-covered skin of her chest.

As the third bug appeared in the incision, Rommie wasted not time in snatching it up and sending it to its shielded prison.

Harper bounced slightly on the balls of his feet, up and down, up and down, his body humming in anticipation. "Comeoncomeoncomeon," he muttered rapidly, nearly demanding the last one to show its wormy itself.

The mental and oral pleading seemed to do the trick. Suddenly the elusive creature appeared, intent on having a Lynx DNA buffet and instead finding an all access trip into the _Vacuum_.

Harper smiled so widely in that moment that his mouth would be sore for day to come. Nevertheless... he kept smiling like a fool. Bye-bye buggies. Adios. Au revoir. Slán leat. Arrivederci. See ya, wouldn't want to be ya.

* * *

The hours passed by like eons and minutes infinite decades. Beka still had yet to wake from her sedation and until she did, they couldn't't gauge what kind of damage had been done. Once she awoke and was back to normal, Trance would be able to work on Tyr.

Harper sighed absently. Just when you thought someone was out of woods, the woods just kept on freakin' getting bigger and bigger.

So he was left to wait. Just waiting.

Another vast minute passed.

Still waiting.

Sitting here, bored. Waiting.

"_Andromeda_, what time is it?"

"Time for you to get a personal chronometer, Harper."

The human leaned backing in his (rather uncomfortable) chair, looking over at the tiny hologram stationed next to him on a supply drawer. "I didn't know the High Guard programmed snark into their warships 'Droms."

_Andromeda_ raised a trademark eyebrow. "No, I'm afraid the High Guard did no such thing ." She paused, then added, "It must have come from my engineer's latest round of upgrades."

Harper chuckled. "Touché, my dear, touché. You ever think about doing comedy? I bet you'd be a riot. Much better than say… a Than telling knock-knock jokes. Now that's painful."

He grimaced. "And don't even let them get into a 'why the kilak crossed the space lane' gag. They go on for days. Their other jokes are pretty dry too. Same unfunny material time after time."

"Reminds m-me of someone I k-know."

Harper froze. That wasn't _Andromeda_.

He turned toward the bed on his left, his breath catching. "Beka?"

Beka Valentine was blinkingly painfully up at the lights over her resting place and trying to sit up, gravity be damned. She smiled slightly as Harper, now in Mother Hen mode, jumped up to help raise the bed into an upright position.

"That's m-my name," she replied, her voice cracking. "What's going on?"

"Beka!" Harper cried emotionally, throwing his good arm around her and burying his head in her neck. "Thank the Devine!"

Beka let the diminutive human cling to her about ten seconds before trying to pry him lose. "Seamus! Down!" she commanded firmly.

Harper sheepishly let her go and gave the groggy pilot a little space.

"Thanks," Beka nodded, waving him off a bit. She noticed the bandage on the underside of her arm and frowned. "Um…" She raised it to his face. "Explain?"

"Hold on, Bek. _Andromeda_! Tell Trance that Beka's fine! Have her start on Tyr right away!"

"Wait a second… what's _going on_? What's up with Tyr? Why are you hugging me like you haven't seen me in years?"

Harper shook his head. "You were infested by the little creatures that got me. They kinda made you go a little loopy for a while. But we worked out a way to capture them and Trance had to cut into your arm."

Beka narrowed her eyes slightly, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "Machello..."

"He created the creatures," Harper finished.

Beka shook her head, her eyes distant for a moment. "No, I _heard _Machello. Something about delivering him to the vile Nietzscheans_."_

"Yeah, I remember that too," the engineer recalled sympathetically. "It happened right as the things were leaving my body. It must be a preprogrammed response."

Beka wrapped her arms around her chest, trying her best to recall the last few days. "I remember… Tyr getting sick. Then helping Rommie with the datapads. After that it's kind of a blur."

She looked over at him suddenly, an eyebrow raised in puzzlement. "How does fish and a bearded woman fit into this?"

Harper grinned. Things, at least for the moment, seemed to finally begoing right.


	15. To be betrayed by our friends

* * *

**Chapter 15**

_"To be deceived by our enemies or betrayed by our friends is insupportable;  
yet by ourselves we are often content to be so treated."  
__-Francois De La Rochefoucauld_

* * *

Tyr's progress, considering the trauma his body had gone through, was undoubtedly going to take longer than Beka's had. Nevertheless, Drago Museveni's achievements in genetics allowed for rapid healing in his race of walking, talking science experiments, and when Tyr awoke on Med Deck only twelve hours after having undergone the procedure, Harper was not terribly surprised.

In fact, he had been in the room when the Nietzschean opened his eyes for the first time in days. Not that Harper had been sitting by his bedside anxiously waiting or anything. To be honest he'd decided that holding vigil was probably the last thing Tyr would have wanted and had instead decided to accompany Beka to her quarters.

He'd gone into her bathroom to get some water so she could take her pain meds, but when he returned ten seconds later glass in hand, Beka was sprawled out on her bed, dead to the world. Leaving her in peace he went back to his domain of the ship. The workshop. He'd wanted to sleep like both Beka and Dylan were doing, and while his bunk in the shop called to him like the most tempting of sirens, sleep eluded him. Sleep mocked him. The bastard.

Hours later he was still having the same bout of insomnia. So instead of dreaming, he tinkered for a while with some of his gadgets. He also in that time tried and failed to read three different holostories. He just felt so… he couldn't explain it. The word malaise came to mind. Just an all-purpose feeling of sickness and discomfort he couldn't seem to place. Yep, that seemed to sum it all up for him. It was also exceedingly cold in the workshop even though he had the heat up. He'd made a mental note to have Rommie check the workshop's thermostat when she had a chance.

Eventually the adrenaline of the past day began to wear and as the night progressed into early morning, his wrist began to hurt again. First a slow build of simple ache, then eventually a shooting pain that resonated through the tips of his fingers up to his elbow. The time had finally come to see Trance.

His walk to Med Deck had been hesitant. As much as his hand hurt, he wasn't looking forward to his friend going all doctor on him. Thank the Devine she wasn't a dentist by trade. He'd be downright terrified.

When he arrived at his destination he'd found himself alone. A quick search by _Andromeda _revealed that Trance had gone to check on Beka. Harper decided to wait for her and slid onto the other unoccupied medbed next to Tyr. The Kodiak was off the breathing and dialysis machine now and medical nanobots were running through his system repairing the internal damage. Trance was expecting him to awake sometime the next day. Tyr, never one to follow directions, had of course decided otherwise.

The first sign of consciousness was a low groan. Harper hadn't really been looking Tyr's direction, but the soft noise quickly drew the engineer's attention. He jumped from his perch, his wrist again forgotten, and came to stand next to the other bed.

"Tyr?" he asked cautiously. Another groan. "_Andromeda_! Get Trance!" Harper called, a part of him sure that the ship had already sensed Tyr's impending awakening.

Wearily an eyelid opened to reveal the dark brown iris underneath. The other was quick to follow. Tyr might be drugged out of the preverbal gills, but he wasn't one to let that stand in his way.

"Mmfp," he growled grumpily. "Fmmp."

"Ah, Big Guy, I love you too," Harper purred. "But you know we can't. It's illegal in a dozen systems."

Those dark eyes suddenly became a lot more clearer with life. Seamus smiled.

"--fessor."

"Welcome back to the land of the living, Tyr. I thought you were going to sleep all day."

"Wha--t?

"Happened? Well you see, you got a little too drunk at the annual Christmas party…"

"B-boy."

Harper smiled again. "Sorry. Old habits."

Again Tyr's eyes changed, this time in what Harper could only describe as slight surprise, as if he'd just figured something out. Or realized that the human next to him wasn't babbling like crazy idiot and having tea parties with the bulkhead.

"You were… insane," Tyr murmured, his first real sentence since he'd opened his eyes.

"I got better," Harper defensively retorted. "Besides, insane is as insane--"

"Tyr!" Trance interrupted his retort as she entered the deck. Harper backed up and let the ex-purple alien examine him. She checked his temperature, heart rate, eyes, even the newly healing wound on his forearm. When she seemed content that he was stable she put a hand on his. "Glad to have you back," Trance said, her smile radiant.

She helped Tyr sit up and raised the back of the bed to support him. He still seemed a bit groggy, but was doing better than any of them could have hoped.

"What do you last remember?" Trance asked.

Tyr frowned in thought. "Visiting the Professor on Sinti. He went to attack Beka and I restrained him. We went back to the ship afterwards and I began feeling ill." He shook his head. "Nothing after that. How long have I been unconscious?"

"Almost five standard days," Trance answered.

The Nietzschean seemed genuinely surprised by that. "Five? How unwell was I?"

Trance smiled wearily. "Besides the machines keeping your vital organs functioning, your heart stopped three times. You almost didn't make it. It's only because of Harper that you're here now. Another day and we would probably have lost you."

Tyr glanced over at Harper still standing quietly next to his bed. "I fear a long, long story coming on."

* * *

Somewhere between the dead scientist, loony bin, icepicks, pseudo-white blood cells, and something called a _Vacuum of Doom, _the story did indeed become long. Tyr took most of the tale in stride. Nothing seemed to have any real ability to surprise him much any more, even this nearly implausible account.

"And these… devices Machello created, what will become of them?"

"Right now they're getting ready for a one-way trip to Sinti's second sun," Harper answered cheerfully. "I'm afraid they won't have any sunscreen either." The human smiled at his own bad joke.

Tyr was glad to hear of their imminent demise. Machello's hate for the Nietzscheans had been terribly strong. Why there weren't more of these creatures out in the galaxy he didn't know. And never hoped to.

Harper was again babbling on about how he'd initially figured out a way to remove the wormlike machines and Tyr listened with modest interest. The boy had already explained this part, but since Harper had saved his life, this was the least he could do. For a while anyway. Anasazi was not a fan of humoring anyone for longer than a tolerable amount of time.

Instead of paying attention to the human's words, Tyr took in his appearance with growing apprehension. Harper's eyes were alight with interest in his own genius workings, but below them were dark shadows._ 'Lack of sleep_?' he musingly wondered.

Harper's skin seemed paler and the stubble on his face was thicker than what the engineer usually preferred. Tyr's sharp eyesight could also make out the faint beads of sweat forming along his hairline. The last, and more serious observation he made, was of Harper's hand. The way he was carefully holding it to look as if he was in fact _not _holding, clearly showed something was wrong.

"Come here." His commanding words stopped Harper mid-sentence.

"Okay," the engineer complied, warily stepping forward.

Tyr nodded to the glass of water sitting on the stand next to his bed. "Pick up the water."

Harper's eyes widened just enough to realize what Tyr was playing at. Instead of giving in, he slowly stretched his right hand out to water placed next to the bedridden Nietzschean.

"No, use your _left_."

Harper pulled back his hand from the glass. He made no move toward the water now and Tyr raised an eyebrow. "Curious. What's wrong with your arm, Harper?"

The engineer obstinately narrowed his eyes. "Nothing is wrong with my _arm_."

Tyr glared and Harper swallowed heavily.

Seconds passed and finally the human caved. "It's not my arm… it's my _wrist_."

By this time Trance had heard their conversation and moved back toward them from the computer console she'd previously been at. "Harper?" she asked.

He ducked his head and muttered, "I um… it's my wrist. I wanted to tell you, but things were busy and it could wait. I fell, so it's probably just twisted."

With careful hands, Trance reached for Harper's left wrist. When her fingers made contact with the faintly bruised skin, he hissed in pain. Trying not to jostle it very much, Trance slowly pulled his arm towards her. She exclaimed the aforesaid injury and glanced back up at its owner in dismay.

"Harper, it's very possible you fractured this. I need to get it scanned to tell how serious. When did this happen?"

The blonde clammed up, shaking his head negatively. "I don't really remember. Probably when I was working or something."

Tyr frowned. _He's lying._

Not saying anything, however, he watched Trance lead Harper over to the next bed and prompted him up onto it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she implored.

Harper shrugged. "I didn't think it was that bad. It didn't feel broken."

She sighed and softly probed the rest of his arm, up to his shoulder. This too received a hiss of distress. "Harper, take off your shirt. I want to make sure you haven't injured your shoulder too."

The request sent the engineer into a frenzy. As soon as the words left her mouth he was trying to get off his bed.

"Y-you know, I-I think I'm okay," he babbled, refusing to yield to the hands attempting to hold him back. "Reallllllly, just sprained it. It's nothing. I've had worse."

"Harper, stop, you have to stop," Trance called, trying to calm him. "You're going to hurt yourself again… Harper no, please, just sit back…"

Again he tried to pull from her grabbing hands.

"SEAMUS HARPER!"

Tyr's harsh voice froze the human like a child who just been discovered stealing from the cookie container.

"Now, you will listen to Trance or so help me, little man, I will gladly get off this bed and hold you down myself," Tyr said. Though at least five feet away, the threat carried the distance well.

The warning seemed to work and Harper slowly complied. Not happily of course, but Tyr could have cared less about joyful compliance as long as it happened. He watched with muted curiosity as the human, with Trance's help, pulled off his shirt.

Tyr felt something unpleasant fill his senses. It took him a few seconds to realize what it was.

Rage.

Next to Harper, Tyr heard the ship's physician gasp.

Like some sick version of war paint, Harper's chest was covered with dark patches of old bruises. Most were centered around his ribcage with a few larger ones scattered across his lower stomach. His left shoulder was also darker than it should be. This was no accident. Unless Harper has _accidentally _made contact with someone's fist. And then possibly, judging by the sizes of the bruises on his abdomen, inadvertently ran into a foot as well.

Harper wasn't looking at them, just staring down at his knees. He casually picked at a piece of lint he found imbedded in the dark material.

"Oh, Harper," Trance whispered, "how did this happen?"

Seamus glanced up for a second, his eyes on hers just long enough to say, "It doesn't matter how."

"It does matter," she said. "Please… tell me."

He went in search for more lint.

Tyr thought about cutting in, demanding that the boy tell them where he'd acquired such a collection of injuries, but from the stubborn set of Harper's jaw, the weapon's officer realized he'd get no response.

Trance seemed to understand that she too would receive no answer. She backed away and went to a nearby storage shelf, rummaging around for something to probably use on Harper's wrist.

Having nothing profound to say, Tyr sat in silence, watching the human across from him. Harper still hadn't looked up. He seemed to be building a temple with all the fibers he had collected from his pants. Building and building. Not caring about what was really going on. Just… building. He looked completely broken.

Tyr leaned back into the head cushion of his bed, his mind full of vengeful thoughts. The kludge was an annoying, little man who talked too much and had poor manners. More often than not, he deserved a good swift kick. Nevertheless, the kludge had also saved his life far too many times to count. The boy was _his _kludge, and the thought of someone hurting him in such a manner did not bode well with the Nietzschean.

With a low growl in his throat, Tyr decided what must be done. Someone was going to pay. When he was healed and ready… yes, someone was going to pay dearly.

* * *

Beka awoke sometime later that morning and rolled over with a lethargic groan. The chrono next to her bed flashed and she glanced over at the changing numbers, realizing just how long she'd been out of it. Nearly 14 hours from the looks of it. She didn't even remember falling asleep. Harper had walked her back to her quarters yesterday afternoon, and now here she was, splayed across her bed with a thin blanket laying over her. His doing she was sure.

She sat up and stretched, her neck cracking with a satisfying crunch as she twisted it to the side. She looked down at her bandaged arm and flexed her hand experimentally. Every digit seemed to work properly. Trance had said she could have lost some feeling due to nerve damage, but everything felt okay. A little stiff if anything, but each finger followed her command when she mentally told them to wiggle.

Beka proceeded to her bath unit next, used the toilet facilities and took a long shower that was to die for. When she was done she dried off and ran a brush through her tangled hair and contemplated, while staring in the mirror, changing the color for a while. Deciding she'd do it later, she went to her closet in search of clean clothing.

Leisurely, Beka pulled a dark shirt and pants out and went to work dressing herself, more concerned with comfort than fashion at this particular moment. The next important thing she had on her agenda was lunch. She didn't care what she ate, just as long as she could have it quickly. She was hungry enough to eat a herd of kellick beasts, horny tails and all.

The door chime to her quarters went off with a metallic hum and drew her from her mental feast of kellick meat. Barefoot, Beka padded over and keyed open the door, all the while looping the last of her belt into her pants with her other hand.

"Hey," Beka greeted her guest, dropping her hands from her waist. "I'm glad you came by. I wanted to thank you for staying with me in the lab room. Talking to me and stuff."

Rommie smiled slightly. "I didn't do much I'm afraid."

Beka shook her head. "No, you tried to calm me. I remember that. I knew you were there, at least a part of me did. Thank you."

"Any time," the android offered kindly. She shifted a bit to the other foot and a slight change on her face caught Beka's attention.

"What's up?" the pilot asked suddenly.

Rommie's face sobered. "It's Harper."

"What about him?"

"He's on Med Deck."

The _Maru's _captain raised an eyebrow. "What's he doing there? Did Trance need something else? I mean, I thought the creatures were pretty much taken care of?"

"No," Rommie shook her head, "Trance has him under observation on Med Deck. As in, he's a--"

"_Patient_?" Beka finished, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

The avatar nodded curtly.

Beka felt her hands tighten into fists and heard the rapid words of, "sonofabitch," fall from her mouth. She took a breath to calm herself out of the panic that was beginning to claw at her. "What _happened_? The last time I saw him he was perfectly _fine_."

"Unfortunately, _perfectly fine _appears to be what he wanted us to see, not how he actually was. Trance can explain more when we get down there," Rommie offered.

"Why didn't you come get me sooner?" Beka demanded.

Rommie looked apologetic. "Trance thought it would be better for you to rest. You didn't need to be in there hovering over him. He hasn't been there very long."

Beka glared a bit and said definitely, "I don't hover," as she went back into her quarters in search of her boots.

When she had quickly laced them on, albeit sloppily, she followed the avatar down the corridor. Up two levels, down more corridors. Up another level. The path to Med Deck was as familiar to her as the back of her hand. When they eventually approached the door, Beka hesitated. Why was this happening? Things had just started to go right for the first time in weeks and now something else was landing in their plate.

"Damn," she muttered, "damn damn damn." Beka paused as the last curse faded into the air. Déjà vu. The last time she'd said that, she'd been sitting right outside this door, awaiting Harper's fate. She didn't know if she could do that again. Just the thought of losing him…

The door opened and Rommie stepped inside. Beka instinctively followed. Instead of Harper, and the first person she saw was Tyr. The Nietzschean was resting on his bed, back propped up and trying unsuccessfully to finish a bowl of something that looked… lumpy. Her fear for Harper was momentarily pushed back as she realized how well he was doing compared to when she had last seen him.

"Hey," she said softly. "Glad to have you back. Last time I was here, you weren't looking too hot."

"So I've been told," Tyr responded. He glanced down at the bowl in his hands, grimaced and put it down on the table next to his bed.

Beka's eyes moved to Tyr's left and slowly the occupied medbed next to his came into view. Hesitantly she walked forward and stopped, inches from the sleeping engineer. Beka put a hand on his forehead instinctively, as if checking for fever. He wasn't hot, however, not even the usual 98.6 degrees of warmth associated with the human body. Harper was cool, and the skin beneath her palm was clammy. She drew her hand away.

Trance came to stand on her right, as if appearing out of no where.

Beka looked over at the alien, but said nothing. Her eyes asked everything.

"Don't worry," her friend reassured, "he'll be fine."

"He's cold," Beka observed.

Tranced nodded. "It's the shock. He's coming out of it, but his system needs a little more time to recuperate."

"Recuperate from what exactly?"

"From a fractured wrist. He also had some minor internal bleeding. It wasn't a life threatening level of hemorrhaging, but given time it could have built up. It's good we were able to catch it. He also has two cracked ribs and a badly wrenched shoulder. I have him sedated now because he's so physically exhausted. I doubt he's sleep more than a few hours in the past several days."

Beka swallowed and looked to her right again. "He was _fine _earlier. He was joking, he seemed… happy. How did this happen? "

Trance's eyes looked a bit haunted Beka realized. "He won't say. But… it's probably safe to assume it happened on Sinti. Most of the injuries are several days old. My best guess is that he's been running on adrenaline these past few days. We've seen him do it before."

Valentine stared at the inert young man before her, covered thickly with blankets up to his neck. "So this happened on Sinti. The place where we _left _him." She swiped a hand over his form. "Left him to receive _this_."

"Beka, we couldn't know anything would happen. We were trying to help him."

Beka laughed bitterly. "Yeah, we really helped him. Looks like he got a lot of help, didn't he?"

Trance didn't respond and Beka realized how harsh her tone had been. She ran a hand through her damp hair and sighed wearily. "I'm sorry, Trance, I didn't mean to imply… I know you love Harper and none of us would intentionally do something to hurt him. This is just frustrating. God, why would he hide this? He needed help and he didn't ask."

Trance put a hand on Beka's shoulder, her fingers warm amongst the mechanical cool of the infirmary. "He was concerned for you and Tyr. That's all that mattered to him. As soon as you were okay though, his body just stopped functioning."

"When will he wake up?"

"Well, I gave him the mild sedative a few hours ago," Trance answered. "When it wears off later today, I expect he'll remain unconscious, at least until his body has caught up on the sleep it desperately needs. That probably won't be until tomorrow sometime, at the latest."

Beka sighed and scratched at a drop of water that had run down her neck from her hair. Her stomach began calling to her again, this time even more insistent. "You said he'd be out for a while?"

"All day."

Valentine nodded to herself, content with her next plan of action. Her eyes found Trance and then Rommie, who had been standing behind them silently.

"That's good to know," she said, "because I have to go eat something now before my stomach starts to cannibalize itself. Then… I'll be back to hover."

* * *

The next day, Harper returned to consciousness and found Beka by his side, her head resting on his bed near his right hand. She was asleep, but as soon as he began moving she was awake and looking up at him with a smile of relief.

She lightly scolded him for not telling anyone about his injuries and he apologized. He had been wrong to hide that he knew. Harper then expressed his anger at himself for getting her infected and she at herself for committing him to a mental health facility.

They both laughed at one another and made peace with the situation. It was in the past, they realized, and the only thing that mattered was the here and now. Besides, Beka was Harper's friend, and she hadn't really wanted to put him in that hell hole on Sinti. He also knew that being angry at her was the wrong thing to do.

Next, Dylan, Rommie, Trance, and a nearly healed Tyr joined them. Harper realized he couldn't be mad at them either. They were his friends, and he loved them too much to hold a grudge.

Together the small crew smiled and joked together. Tyr said something cynical about death, Dylan recited a well used platitude about 'all's well that ends well', and Beka tussled Harper's already disheveled hair with affection. All were happy to be in each others presence. Things were good, and life, once again, went on as usual on the _Andromeda_ _Ascendant_.

But things, Harper knows, do not always have a perfect ending. Not everything is black and white, good or evil. Some actions taken, cannot always be defensible, and sometimes, contrary to Machiavellian ideals, the end does not always justify the means. So when Harper really awoke the next day, he was left with the haunting images of the dream he had just had. In it all wrongs had been righted and there had been no residual effects from the past week of his life.

But the actual reality sank in the moment he opened his eyes and realized where he was.

Med Deck was empty and dark. Not pitch black, but the lights had been dimmed enough to allow for a comfortable sleep. His body, propped up at a slight angle, didn't ache and he knew it was probably because he was being pumped full of drugs. God bless Trance for that at least, he mused to himself.

Harper flexed his bare toes, then his ankles. So far so good. Next he experimentally lifted the collar of his medical gown and saw his chest and stomach covered in familiar blue patches of antibiotic treatment fluid. "Great," he murmured. Harper dropped the thin material and examined his left arm, which was held immobile in a sling that wrapped around his neck and back around to his shoulder.

From Trance's earlier reaction his wrist had been far worse than he had expected. Damn Uno and Dos. He hadn't wanted any of this to come out. The bruises would have healed quickly enough and he could have easily passed off his arm as okay for a few more days if they hadn't ruffed him up on their last visit to Sinti. The damage was just too great to fly under the radar this time.

Harper bit his bottom lip in frustration. Now came the explanations and the reprimands, all the things he had wanted to avoid. He was content with the fact that he had helped Beka and Tyr, but he didn't want discuss "it". That only brought up more issues, more feelings and things in which he didn't trust himself to talk about just yet, if ever.

He turned onto his right side, careful to adjust his left arm properly across his chest. There still wasn't any physical pain, but in time, it would come. Unfortunately no amount of pills could take away the real hurt he felt. That was too deep for something artificial to reach. It was tucked away with all the other anger, and betrayal, and resentment, and misery he had collected over the years. What were a few more emotions anyway? He could take it. He had always taken it. Now was no different.

Harper closed his eyes and prevented his tears from falling. He refused to let them.

He did not open his eyes when someone called his name.

Beka, his brain provided.

He also didn't respond when something lightly touched his shoulder.

Beka's hand, his heart offered knowingly.

When the voice pleaded for him to open his eyes, when it said it knew he was awake, Harper lay silent.

She wants you to talk to her, his conscience replied.

As another voice joined the first, but nothing changed.

You can't ignore them forever, his soul gently reprimanded.

But the human on the bed only lay still and silent.

Shut off.

Alone.

Trying to forget.


	16. Our revels now are ended

I'm going to do this now so I don't take away from the ending with my ramblings.

This story has taken me _forever _and a day to complete. I started it on February 22, 2004 and here I am, over a year later. Yikes. To everyone who hung in there, chapter by chapter, I make a promise now to never post a fic until I'm _completely _done with it. I've learned my lesson with this one. :)

I've been revamping my oldest _Andromeda _story "TBFTGOG". If you haven't read it, by all means head over. Still sans beta, but that's my next mission. One thing at a time.

Now, a big shout out to the reviewers. You know who you are. Whether the comments were short and sweet, flame filled or even Homeric epics, they meant a great deal to me. You guys make this fandom great. If you ever want to chat outside the review page and you have a LiveJournal, my username is _ewanspotter_. I always love new friends.

Thanks to Echo for the prodding.

And lastly, many, many thanks to Gene's _Andromeda _for giving us five years of Seamus Harper and the gang. It's beenquite ajourney.

Now, on to the story. No wait, one more thing. (Har har!) Remember to leave a review. Tell me you hate my writing. Tell me you like Jedi robes and moonlit walks on the beach. Tell me you want to have my babies. Just tell me something and make this past year of my life worth it.

_

* * *

_

Chapter 16

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,  
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and  
Are melted into air, into thin air:  
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,  
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,  
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,  
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,  
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,  
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff  
As dreams are made on; and our little life  
Is rounded with a sleep.

_-William Shakespeare "The Tempest"_

_

* * *

_

After his second full day on Med Deck Harper was released into his own custody. Next to Earth, this was the most eager he'd ever felt to leave a place.

Though many of his bruises were deep and would last several weeks before fading, they were far from life threatening. The cracks on his ribs were healing but tender, his shoulder felt fine, and the internal damage was now repaired. The fracture he had tried his best to conceal on his wrist was fused with the help of the quick acting medical nanobots. Trance, however, still insisted that the bone was fragile and needed to be contained in the sling for a few more days just to be safe. He wore it just long enough to get off Med Deck.

Harper could tell it was against her better judgment to let him go, but his physical injuries were healing nicely and there was no medical reason to keep him any longer. And he sure as hell wasn't making good company. Since waking almost three days ago he had remained taciturn. He hadn't been in the mood for idle conversation, no matter who tried to initiate it. Tyr was the only one of his friends who hadn't come to see him chattering away with fake cheerfulness, probably because he was confined to his bed until his body finished healing. Then again, Harper couldn't see Tyr showing up randomly anyway. It wasn't in his nature to look that concerned for anyone but himself.

Beka had come to see him several times of course, each visit turning into a chance to ask why he was so shut off. He'd tried to explain. Tried and wanted to tell her how he felt and give her a clear picture of his emotions, but every time he looked into her face he saw a traitor. Out of everyone, her betrayal, her willingness to drop him like a bad boyfriend, was the worst.

He would have never given up on her, but now it seemed like when the chips were down, Beka Valentine was _very _willing to leave him high and dry.

Harper threw down his spanner in disgust. He'd been fumbling with this hydropump for the past hour and it refused to be fixed. Either that or he wasn't in the mood to repair anything. Harper clenched his shaking fist. Maybe he just needed to eat something. He'd been ignoring his stomach for a while now because he hadn't wanted to go to the commissary during peak hours. He didn't really care about any of the regular crew but he wanted to avoid the _other _crew if he could keep from it.

Oh, he'd be friendly and pleasant enough, but the smile would be false. Harper was sure that given time he would begin to stop thinking about the past few weeks and move on. There were far more important things going on in the galaxy to not just let this go, but he wanted to hold onto his bitter mood for just a little while. Just a bit longer, and then he would push it back with everything else and bury it.

Harper unclipped his tool belt and let it fall onto the nearly empty table. He ran his good palm across his forehead a few times as if to wipe away all his bad thoughts. At least his stay on Med Deck had allowed him to catch up on sleep. It had been real sleep too, not the nightmare filled kind he had initially expected. It seemed as if his brain was just too tired to fabricate any new terrors for him the past few days. Eventually they would come again, but for now he was thankful for small miracles.

He walked to the ship's enormous mess hall with no hurry in his stride. He passed several High Guard crew members he knew but didn't bother to offer any words of greeting, just a trite nod of acknowledgement as he walked by. The commissary, like he had expected, was nearly abandoned.

A man he didn't recognize sat in the far left nursing a steaming cup of something and reading intently from a datapad. At another table was a technician who looked to be in a hurry, shoving a fork full of greens into his mouth. The guy's name was Talis something, Harper knew. He'd worked with him a few times. Smart, quick with a joke once he got to know you. Harper, however, wasn't in the mood for jokes today and made a point to sit as far from the man once he got his food

He approached the counter where the mess bot stood waiting for orders. He asked for his usual, a kreller fish sandwich on white bread and a Sparky Cola. So far, kreller had been the closest thing to tuna fish could find on his adventures across the universe. Of all the things about Earth he missed, tuna was the third, just after Harleys and 4th of July. Harper felt himself smiling suddenly as he stood, waiting for the robot to produce his meal. He hadn't felt like smiling in days but something as silly as the memory of a tuna fish sandwich has made him feel better. Wonders never cease.

Kreller fish and Sparky in tow, Harper sat at the table farthest in back, away from the hotdrinksippingman and Talissomething. He half heartedly bit into his food and took a swig of tooth decaying liquid heaven.

He ate alone but it was a solitude he chose for himself. No one, no matter how hard they tried, could take that from him.

* * *

As uneventful as his walk to the commissary was, the trip back was just as mundane. He got back to the workshop and finished the hydropump's repairs within the hour, his concentration back on the task at hand.

Twenty minutes later he was in the middle of nanowelding sheet metal for his next project when someone called his name. Realizing he hadn't heard the door because of the hissing of the tool, Harper yanked off his protective goggles and turned to see Rommie standing patiently a few feet behind him. Anyone else and he might have very well stuck his goggles back on and kept working. He wasn't sure exactly why he could tolerate her more than the others. Maybe because he remembered she was still mechanical, all wires and intricate programs. She was forced to follow Dylan's orders, and if her captain wanted her maker incarcerated in a rubber room, she could only nod and give a clipped, 'Aye, sir.'

"Hello," he said mildly, dropping the eyewear onto the table.

"How are you feeling?" she asked kindly.

"Peachy," Harper answered. He could tolerate her more than the others true enough, but it didn't mean he wanted deep and meaningful conversation.

"Harper…" she began but paused, wincing a bit out of… pity perhaps? He couldn't tell. "Lately you've been aloof."

Harper raised an eyebrow. "Have I now? Why would I be _aloof_?"

Rommie frowned. "I don't know. You're angry perhaps. Upset. We know something happened to you on Sinti."

Blue human eyes narrowed icily. "I know exactly what happened to me on Sinti. My so-called friends sent me on holiday to a nut house. Not that I didn't enjoy the company. The guy next to me was a lovely fellow. Insisted his right leg was actually a broomstick. So, yeah, something happened on Sinti, Rommie. Rom Doll. Roma Doma Ding Dong."

The avatar looked a bit stricken as his tone. Almost as if he'd slapped her.

"Harper, that's not what happened. We did what we thought--"

"Was best? Good job. One mention of insanity and woah! That's the answer! Old Harper was just waiting to snap like a toothpick. Let's toss him in."

"Harper--"

"That's my name," Harper murmured, snatching up his goggles again. He secured them onto his head and went back to welding. Boring conversation anyway.

Though he didn't know it, Rommie did not leave. Instead she stood staring sadly at his back wondering how exactly things had gone so wrong. Human emotions could be so volatile sometimes, for good or bad. What Harper was really feeling had been so buried beneath his exterior that none of them had truly gripped what was going on within him. They knew he was upset. They knew he dealing with something painful. But they hadn't suspected feelings of outright betrayal. Had they betrayed him?

Rommie looked harder at his rigid back and wondered to herself if they had been too fast in diagnosing him and leaving him behind. They hadn't wanted to do any of it, but at the time he had been too beyond sanity to see their struggle.

Rommie looked down at a nearly empty workbench. The only thing it contained was a pile of blank flexis. She reached down and pulled the top one off the group and lay a hand on it. Inside Rommie's core processor, she found her link with _Andromeda _and began searching for what she needed. She only hoped it would work.

A few moments later she slipped out of Harper's workshop.

As the door shut behind her Rommie saw Tyr coming down the same corridor. She knew Trance wouldn't be happy to see him up and about, though he had insisted he was fine.

Tyr's eyes meet hers as he approached, his face set in a mask of determination.

She opened her mouth in greeting but closed it when he took hold of her upper arm and said evenly, "I need your expertise."

Eventually Harper shut off the welder and secured it to his belt. He pulled off his goggles and winced as a few drops of sweet ran into his eyes, burning them with their salty makeup. He wiped his face with a nearby rag and dropped it and then his belt onto the workbench beside his project.

He couldn't say exactly what time it was, but he'd bet dollars to donuts it was past time for him to be asleep. Not that he cared what his body wanted. He was too antsy to sleep. He would just lie there looking at the ceiling and counting ewes. He might as well be doing something useful.

Deciding a beer was in order, Harper turned and headed toward the refrigerated unit he keep in the room. He could almost taste the alcohol on his lips when an alarm sounded. It wasn't the kind of warning that said the ship was under attack or that something had gone horribly awry. It was soft but insistent and coming from his workshop somewhere. He followed the beeping to one of his empty tables. No, not empty, a few flexis lay strewed across its surface, so thin he had barely noticed them from a distance. The beeping was coming from one of them. He ran his eyes over them until he found the culprit. One lone flexi lying near the far edge.

Harper picked it up. It must have been programmed to go off at a certain time, though he didn't remember ever setting it. There had to be a malfunction or something. Harper pressed the blinking red button and hoped it would stop the alarm. While the maddening sound ceased, the flexi did not remain quiet. A small image appeared in the main screen and Harper pulled it closer to his face. A little figure was talking, its image grainy. Was that the conference room?

"No. Nonononono, and oh yeah… NO!"

"_Beka_, _you have to accept the possibly that Trance could be right."_

Harper felt his throat close up. This was security footage. The datestamp on it put it at almost twelve days ago.

The figure of Beka stood suddenly, her chair tipping precariously backwards for a moment.

"It all sounds _fairly theoretical to me and I refuse to just accept it. Doesn't anybody think it could possibly be stress? Huh? He's been working like a Bandomeerian racing dog trying get those new upgrades installed on Andromeda for the past week and a half."_

Harper watched the next few minutes with sick curiosity. He heard Dylan try to convince his second in command to sit down and help plan their next course of action.

"I know our next course of action. I take Harper on a long, soothing holiday away from here."

The debate continued and the more they talked, the more hostile Beka became. Harper was shocked to finally see Trance slam her hands onto the table and yell at the blonde pilot.

"Do you think I want to be saying this, Beka? Do you think I take pleasure in giving this diagnosis? I damn well don't!"

Harper swallowed hard as the images continued. He watched them discuss schizophrenia and possible options for their ailing engineer. He witnessed the looks of horror, of disgust, of unrest on their faces. Even Tyr appeared less hardassed than usual.

Suddenly he saw himself on screen attacking Beka, screaming about a parasite that wasn't there. Next she was pacing Med Deck like a caged animal, then sitting near his bed as he slept, and finally there she was crying, encircled in Tyr's arms. He saw Dylan telling Beka that the doctors on Sinti would find something to help. More images of the crew appeared with confused faces yet words of hope. They seemed concerned. They seemed… scared. One final scene appeared before his eyes.

It was _Andromeda's _Command Deck. Beka was covering her face with her hands, Dylan standing nearby.

"Dylan… what we did… to Harper I mean… it's…"

"It's what we thought was best for him, Beka."

"I know that, I do, but there's another part of me that… feels guilty. I really don't know if we'll be… okay when this is all said and done."

He saw Dylan smile and approach, putting a hand on her arm.

"Harper loves you. You just have to trust that he'll remember that when this is over with."

The flexi cut off in his hands and Harper looked down at it in shock. He threw it across the room and backed himself into the nearest wall, sliding down to meet the flooring with jarring force. He felt suddenly ill.

It couldn't be true. None of it. They had betrayed him. They hadn't cared about him, they hadn't fought like that. They hadn't _cried _over him. They had sent him off with a song in their heart and a smile on their lips. There hadn't been arguments, or discussions, or people yelling at one another over what to do.

He knew none of this could have happened because the others had told him so. The others knew what had really happened. The others had witnessed the betrayal. They let him see it too.

The others had told him damnit! The others had told him. The others had told him. The others had…

* * *

The crono at her bedside read 2:56 when her door chime went off. The sudden noise within the silence of the room startled her and Beka found herself sitting up in bed, her heart beating like a hummingbird on Flash.

The chime went over again and she groaned. Company at three in the morning? Did they have a bloody death wish?

She slipped on a pair of silk sleeppants she had lying by her bed and ambled to the door. As her palm went to slap the control panel she had an image of Harper standing outside, his hair messy from sleep, one side of his face red where it had been smashed into his pillow. His clothing was also rumpled and he was barefoot. This was what he usually looked like when he had a bad nightmare, too uncaring about his appearance to try and make himself look more presentable for the walk to her room. It happened rarely, and only when the nightmares were too terrible to be alone. Why she had this image of him, with her hand paused over the door controls, she didn't know. She damn well knew it wasn't Harper of all people standing outside.

Shaking her head and clearing her throat, she pressed the button. The door slid open with a hiss.

Seamus Harper stood outside.

At first her mind couldn't comprehend what her eyes were seeing. Not dressed in sleep clothes or barefoot of course, but there he stood. Though she had come to realize in the past day that her friend for all intents and purposes hated her, there he stood. She couldn't think of a single word to say so instead just moved out of the doorway, hoping he would take the hint.

Slowly, timidly, he stepped into her quarters and past her still form. The door shut behind him and they were bathed in darkness.

"_Lights_," she called and illumination swallowed the shadows.

He still hadn't spoken and she silently took him in. He was pale and his eyes seemed to be hollow and empty. No happiness or anger, no loathing in them. Just nothing. Beka didn't know what to say to him because she didn't even know what he was here for. She decided to start simply with his name.

"Harper?"

He turned from her, staring at some of the old photos she had lining her wall.

"I think I hated you, you know."

She crossed her arms and resisted the urge to bite her lip. "Okay."

"A part of me hated all of you. Dylan, Trance, Tyr, Rommie. But most of all, I hated you. I thought you had betrayed me. Out of everyone, I trusted you the most and you sent me off to Uno and Dos."

Beka shifted awkwardly. She'd been waiting for this confrontation, the declaration that ten plus years of friendship were over because of what she had done. But his words weren't making any sense. "I'm not following you, Harper. Where is… Uno?"

He continued as if he hadn't even heard her.

"I was so angry at you that it never occurred to me _why _I thought any of this. Why the word _traitor _whispered in my head over and over again, even as I tried to save you. I didn't wonder why I suddenly hated you so much after you were free of the creatures. A part of me understood what you did. Why you did it. I was just so glad to be off Sinti I didn't care how I ended up there."

He paused and ran his hands roughly over his face as he turned toward her.

"I couldn't figure out why I felt so angry, but I just stopped caring when Trace found my injuries. That just snapped all the barriers I had in place. I accepted the hatred. It made things better to just hate you. But I've realized something tonight. I know _why _I despised you so much now. _The others told me to_. They told me that you betrayed me. That you didn't care. That no one cared."

Beka swallowed, her throat dry. God she'd kill for a drink right about now. Water, vodka, whatever she could find first. "I don't understand. Who told you to hate me?"

Harper smiled sadly. Eerily. It was as if a part of him just wasn't there.

"The others."

She stepped forward. "Who are the others, Harper? Who told you I betrayed you?"

"They told me when this all started happening that you'd put me away. And then you did. They told me that you'd leave me in that place forever and I… I believed them. They told me over and over again that my friends didn't care. They told me everything."

Beka came closer, her body inches from his. Carefully she put both of her hands on his shoulders and looked down into his face, trying to find those expressive eyes she had grown so used to over the years. "Harper, _who _told you? You have to answer me."

He looked up at her with a clarity that sent a chill through her body.

"The Limvris."

As he said the name of the nine dead Nietzscheans, Beka felt the shoulders beneath her hands tense up. He continued to look up at her as something changed in his eyes.

"The Limvris told me. They told me you betrayed me." He repeated it again with more intensity. "The Limvris told me. The Limvris told me. I… I… believed them. Even when they were out of my body… even when they were gone… I believed them… oh God… even as I tried to save you from the same fate because I loved you so damn much, a part of me still hated you… oh God…"

He jerked from her grip and stumbled backwards.

"I hated you because those bustards who almost stole my life _told me to_! Figments of my _mind _told me lies and I ate them up like candy!"

He was yelling now, his voice rising with every word. Where only a few moments before his eyes had been empty, they now blazed with life. Tears streaked down his face and his cheeks were red with fury.

"Harper, please calm down," she tried softly, stepping closer. He only backed away.

"You don't understand!" he screamed, his anger not directed to her but something he couldn't fight. "I almost lost everything! I almost lost all I have left in this life. I would have been here physically, but that's it. I would have let go of any love I had to give. I would have lost your friendship, I would have lost Trance. Everybody else on this ship I care about. All because those stupid bugs used the Limvris to play on my worst fears!"

He looked at her with such affliction she felt her heart breaking for him.

"And the worst part… the worst part is that I let them win. _I let them win_. I believed with very fiber of my flippin' being that you betrayed me."

All the self-control he had managed to hold together until this very moment crumbled like the walls of Jericho under Joshua's infamous assault. He dropped to the floor, his elbows propped on his knees and his hands covering his face. The sound of erratic sobbing escaped through his clenched fingers.

For a moment Beka stood in shock. There were so many things she wanted to say, to apologize for, to thank him for. He had saved her life even when he'd been brainwashed to hate her. Life with Seamus Harper had always been odd, but it was a life she cherished above all other things.

Slowly she walked to his side and sank down on her knees next to him. Though he didn't appear to be paying attention to it, he did lean into the arms that wrapped around his shoulders and upper body.

"You're wrong. Those bugs didn't win. You beat _them_. You overcame your fear and destroyed them, even when you were hurt and in pain. You didn't lose anything. I'm still here and I'll always be. I love you Seamus Harper, and you'll never lose me. I promise."

She could hear the hitched breathing coming from under her chin calm, the body in her arms relaxing slightly.

"I'm so sorry, Harper," she whispered, rocking gently. "I didn't want any of this to happen. You have to believe me. We… I… thought sending you to get help was our best option. We didn't know what would happen. It was terrifying to see you sick, wondering if you were meant to spend the rest of your life… like that. I'm so sorry, Harper, so damn sorry for everything. If I could take it back in an instant I would."

There was a silence between them. Not uncomfortable necessarily, but definitely noticeable. The smashball was in his court now. He was still crying noiselessly, but suddenly she heard his quiet voice as clear as day. He only spoke two words to her, but they were enough.

"I know."

It seemed like they stayed in that moment for an eternity, the ace pilot crouched next to her eccentric engineer. His crying had subsided, but still there they sat. Neither made a move to get up. Eternity continued until Beka realized she had lost all sensation in her legs.

So startled that she couldn't feel her lower limbs, Beka suddenly toppled backwards, plopping down directly next to him. As her bottom made contact with her quarter's decking the pins and needles of flowing blood bombarded her. She looked over at Harper to see him staring. His eyes were dry. The only remains of his break down where the tracts of dried tears that lined his face. He looked better than he had in weeks.

She signed and put her hands behind her, leaning back. "We make quite a pair, don't we, Seamus?"

"Yeah," he answered slowly. A genuine smile slowly crept onto his face, and though it was still only a ghost of his usual grin, it was nevertheless a start . "Me still being the more attractive of the pair of course."

Some things, no matter the amount of glowing blue creatures or dead Nietzcheans, would ever change.

"Only in your dreams, Harper, only in your delusional dreams."

* * *

Giva Keenan arrived at the hospital at the usual early hour. Outside the brightening sky was just turning a lovely shade of purple. It would only last the shortest of moments he knew, and soon another busy day would come and go. For now, however, he would enjoy the peace of these few remaining minutes of dawn.

A passing figure saw him appreciating the morning and nodded to him curtly in greeting.

"Beautiful day, is it not?" Keenan noted.

The tall stranger paused a moment from his stroll and glanced up too. "Beautiful indeed."

Minutes later Keenan entered the building and signed in at the security booth, giving both guards a friendly hello. He stepped onto an empty lift and waited patiently as it took him to his office. There was no one about on the floor when it stopped and let him off. The night staff were preparing to leave and the patients would sleep until being served breakfast in a few hours.

The control panel on the wall scanned his palm and the door to his office unlocked. Keenan stepped in, placed his case on the floor, and then hung his coat on the hook on the wall. He slipped on the clean white medical one that was next to it and picked up his case. He walked to his desk and set it atop.

An unfamiliar object lay on his desk and Keenan frowned. It was a flexi, but it wasn't one of the hospital's standard designs. Carefully he pressed the activate button and found a waiting message addressed to him. Curiously he opened it.

On the tiny screen, security footage began to play. Keenan looked down at the barbaric images in dismay. The scenes switched several times and every time what he saw seemed worse. Keenan gripped the flexi tightly when it ended.

Calmly he commed down to the security desk and then a few minutes later briskly walked from his office down to the staff locker room. The area was empty and he frowned, pondering where he should go next. A thought occurred to him and he went back to the patient wing. The room he entered was unoccupied by a patient at this moment, though it didn't mean the room was empty. He didn't bother opening the tiny window to look inside. He somehow knew what he would find.

The door slide open and Keenan stepped inside. White padded walls met him and enveloped his vision on all sides but his back. His eyes quickly found what they sought and he took a deep breath. His two aides, Finas-Kal Grosa and Hel Mivera, seemed to have both found themselves in a precarious position. Bound hand and foot, both hung upside down by their feet. The extra rope holding them up seemed to be either nailed or pinned to the upper wall. Their dangling heads barely brushed the white flooring below.

Both aides sported matching black eyes and bloody crusted noses. Finas-Kal seemed to also have a small bleeding cut above his left eyebrow. A gag encircled their mouths and they began to mumble incoherently through the cloth when he entered. Neither looked pleased and wriggled more in their restraints.

Keenan came to a stop a few feet from the hanging twosome. He looked down at the mysterious flexi still in his grip. He couldn't explain it, but he had a feeling the dark stranger he passed this morning may have had something to do with this. The being hadn't been Perseid, but it wasn't uncommon to have offworlders at the hospital and Keenan hadn't thought anything of it at the time.

He once again turned the flexi on. Terrible abuse that angered him to his very marrow played on the small screen. Where the flexi had come from or how it had been obtained mattered little to him. He dropped it between their bobbing heads and saw their eyes open in surprise as they saw themselves. Both began to struggle in protest.

"I suppose I shall go find someone to cut you down. After that you can pack your things and never show your face here or any other medical facility again."

Keenan turned from his ex-employees and stepped into the sterile white hallway. He supposed he should go to his office and finish some much needed paperwork, maybe get some breakfast from the cafeteria and read the daily news. Then perhaps, if he had time, he'd go find maintenance to cut Finas-Kal Grosa and Hel Mivera down.

The door sealed shut behind him. A nearby window caught his attention and Keenan stared out into the morning sunlight, still blooming in the sky.

He took in the new day and nodded to himself. "Beautiful indeed."

* * *

in the dark the footsteps came for him.

sometimes in his dreams he could still hear their voices. shadowed, hideous faces calling his name. they wanted him. they wanted his soul.

but just as a bony hand reached for him in his dreams, another would grab his and pull him toward the light. he wasn't alone anymore.

though they were still coming, he only walked faster.

the footsteps faded…

the footsteps faded…

the footsteps faded…

* * *

-El FIN-


End file.
